


What the Sans?!?!?

by BlookyStar, xX_Kaylee_Xx



Series: The Many Sanses Saga [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Blueberry Must Be Protected, Detailed panic attack, F/M, Fell Sans' Personality Deserves its Own Tag, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, POV Second Person, Panic Attacks, Putting Fell Sans in his Place, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader has a Description, Reader is a potty mouth, Reader remembers the Resets, Referenced Past Trauma, Slow Burn, Smoking, Using Alcohol to Deal with your Problems, alcohol causes awkward situations, don't drink kids, ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:50:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9810038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlookyStar/pseuds/BlookyStar, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xX_Kaylee_Xx/pseuds/xX_Kaylee_Xx
Summary: Living with the skeleton brothers is usually pretty uneventful. You have your job, they have theirs. You live comfortably in a small suburban home, Papyrus making his spaghetti, Sans making his puns. But when your life is suddenly invaded by Sanses from other Alternate Universes, things go from calm to pretty hectic. Throw in chronic nightmares, clashing personalities, and a bit of whiskey, and shenanigans are inevitable. Can you keep your cool, or will your past come back to haunt you in the worst of ways?And why won't Berry, Red, Grim, Dust, Note, G, and Tech stop vying for your attention?





	1. In which you are confused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome! I hope you all enjoy this, my little take on the Six Skeletons, One Maid thing but with Sanses exclusively. Feel free to comment and give me feedback! 
> 
> Smooches! ☆u☆

You yawn widely as you wake up in your bed, smothered by layers upon layers of deep purple blankets. Stretching, you slowly push them off, not wanting to get out of bed, but from the light streaming through your window, you know that it’s probably past noon. It doesn’t really matter, since you have today off, but you still want to get some stuff done today. Groggily, you slide on your fuzzy purple bathrobe and matching slippers. Grumbling about responsibilities, you shuffle to your door and open it just a crack, looking to see if either of the brothers you live with are out there, waiting to ambush you, before shoving it open with a creak and dashing to the bathroom. You barely make it in before you hear a loud voice call to you.

“AH, Y/N, YOU’VE FINALLY DECIDED TO JOIN THE LAND OF THE LIVING!” You let out an irritated sigh, leaning your face against the door. “WE HAVE GUESTS, YOU SHOULD COME DOWNSTAIRS!” You grumble before yelling back at him.

“I NEED A GODDAMN SHOWER, PAP. KEEP WHOEVER IT IS DOWN THERE, I’LL BE DOWN WHEN I GOOD AND WELL FEEL LIKE IT!” You hear some muffled giggling from downstairs, and you recognize one of the voices as Sans. “SHUT IT SANS, YOU KNOW I NEED MY DAMN PERSONAL TIME.” You turn the shower on as hot as it’ll go and before you step in, you hear Papyrus’ voice sail upstairs one more time.

“Y/N, WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE, I TOLD YOU WE HAVE GUESTS!” You laugh with slight morose, figuring it’s just Undyne or Grillby, as usual. 

Stepping into the hot stream scalding your skin, you sigh softly, the burn welcome after the night you had. Nightmares of your past are no new phenomenon for you, but it was worse than usual this time. You attempt to stop thinking about it, and just let the hot water sear away the pain and filth from your skin. You know your skin is probably pink and raw, but you can’t care less as you raise your face to be directly in the stream of boiling water. Grabbing your lavender scented shampoo, you gently lather your long brown hair as the memories are seared away by the heat of the stream, massaging your sore muscles while you clean your locks. You bask in the water a bit longer before it begins to cool, at which point you quickly shave what needs to be shaved and wash your body, getting out before the temperature reaches what a normal person would shower in. Snatching up your purple Egyptian Cotton towel, you dry yourself off quickly before wrapping your bathrobe around you and tentatively stepping out of the bathroom, steam billowing out after you. Sans is leaning against the wall as you tread uncertainly out, and you hide your face inside the bushy collar as he watches the steam flood out.

“Bad night?” he asks softly, and you can hear the concern in his voice. You nod, embarrassed: he doesn’t know what your nightmares are about, but he knows that you have them. Honestly, he’s the only one who does, the only one you trust them with. Many a night you’ve woken up in a cold sweat, your throat hoarse from screaming, to him gently rocking you in his lap, humming his theme song. It always makes you giggle, hearing the song he mixed to play during his fights as a way of comfort, but it really works for you. He sighs, then stands up straight before pulling you into a hug. You melt into it, inhaling deeply. The scent of leather and citrus clings to the fur around his neck, soothing your troubled mind more than the water did. You vaguely wonder why he always smells like citrus, even though he never eats much fruit, but you shrug it off, smiling into the soft fur lining of his jacket. After a moment, he pulls back, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze, before letting go and taking a shortcut - presumably back downstairs. 

You sigh, keeping the collar of your robe pulled up securely around your neck. His scent lingers on the material, and you bask in it as you trudge back to your room to get ready. You’ve probably left the guests waiting longer than you should as it is, even though it’s your day off. You aren’t lazy, per se, but if you don’t have to do something, you tend to put it off and relax instead of doing it, unless you’re in the sort of mood where you need to keep busy to stay sane. As you pass the top of the stairs, a voice catches your attention and you look down the staircase to see Papyrus standing there, hand on his hip. 

“Y/N, WHY AREN’T YOU READY YET? YOU’VE KEPT EVERYONE WAITING SO LONG BY SLEEPING, WILL YOU PLEASE JUST GET DOWN HERE LAZY BONES?” You glare at him over the top of your purple fluff, and just flip him off before disappearing into your room, ignoring his indignant huff at your actions.

You shut the door and lean against it, a habit you’ve taken to. You don’t want to be rude to Papyrus, you really don’t, but you really aren’t ready to face this day quite yet. Heck, you aren’t ready to face a normal day yet, let alone one with guests. You just wanted to relax today, watch a movie, maybe curl up with the skelebros in a cuddle puddle, and not talk much. Now you’re going to have to force yourself to keep up conversation with your friends who are waiting for you downstairs. More and more, you’ve just been wanting to keep to yourself lately, not wishing for too much company. Because of that, you have fallen into this morning routine of sneaking to the bathroom so you can have a bit more peaceful time before facing the bros downstairs. This habit of closing doors and leaning against them comes from that routine, trying to get to the next room before you’re noticed so that you can relax against it. Sighing, you push away from the door and slip your robe down your body, looking in the mirror at your reflection.

Your soft brown hair is strewn across your shoulders randomly, small droplets rolling down the skin where it touches. Your skin is slightly tan, but not much, since you don’t go outside a whole lot anymore. There’s not much of a tanline, more like milky white skin fading into creamy beige where your clothes don’t cover your skin the few times you’re outdoors. Broad shoulders taper slightly down to a homey waistline - not too thick, yet not a twig: you have a bit of pudge and you’re proud of it - with average breasts for your size bouncing slightly when you move. Your hips are wide, and as you turn to the side, your rotund tush blossoms pleasingly out behind you: again, shapely and well-sized for your figure, but not so big that it’s ridiculous. You have a beautiful body, you always tell yourself. In truth, you don’t find yourself all that pretty, but you’re always told that you have the perfect figure. Not a supermodel, but the perfect average sized woman. And that’s all you’ve really wanted to be. 

Average.

A normal woman, with no traumatic past, no confused life, no painful memories, no depression or self-confidence issues. A woman who can walk into a room with guests and not have to force a smile. A woman who doesn’t need to give herself a pep talk in the mirror before dressing nicely.

With a sigh, you walk to your closet and sort through the clothes. You figure it’s your friends from the Underground visiting, but just in case, you don’t want to wear sweatpants and a sweatshirt like you normally do when they’re around. With a small smile, you pull out a loose-fitting periwinkle crop top that says “BAMF” in mulberry purple letters, a matching mulberry form-fitting camisole and white skinny jeans that hug your hips that have rips down the thighs. Sliding the outfit on, you consider your shoes, before deciding on your periwinkle platform Converse, lacing them up before you go to sit at your vanity to decide on your hair and makeup. Quickly you elect to pull your hair up into a messy bun, since you honestly can’t be bothered to dry it and do something nice with it. As for your makeup… eh, who cares really. You just put on a bit of magenta lipstick, layer on some plum colored lip gloss over that, quickly combing some mascara on your lashes, and you call it good. Standing up, you walk to the door, leaving your hand on the knob for a moment, briefly considering taking your clothes off and just going back to sleep. You know Sans will come up and kidnap you eventually though, so you take a deep breath and open it.

Slowly, you descend down the stairs, steeling yourself for the encounter before you. When you walk down the hall and through the wide doorway to the living room, your eyes widen, realizing nothing could have prepared you for what you see in front of you. A chubby little skeleton sits next to Sans, nearly identical in every way to him except with sharp teeth (you notice one of them is replaced by a gold nugget, sharpened into a point like the rest of them), a crack in his skull, and red eyelights instead of white. He’s wearing a black version of Sans’ jacket, though the white fur at the top is spiked more than your friend’s, an identical pair of shorts but with yellow stripes instead of white, and red Converse instead of fluffy slippers. He seems cool and collected, not in the way that Sans is, but in more of a… Self-assured, sexily confident way. He winks at you, throwing two fingers up in a peace symbol, and stands up, extending his hand to shake yours.

“I’m Sans, nice ta meetcha!” He says (his voice is lower and has a bit of a growl to it), and you look confused for a moment before he corrects himself. “Well, I mean, that’s my name, but ya can just call me Red, kay?” You inspect his hand, making sure there’s no buzzer on it, and he laughs a bit, eyeing Sans as you take it and shake it.

“Nice to… meet you too? I guess?” you say, really confused before there’s a tug on your hand as he lays facedown on the chaise, immediately starting to snore, and you look next to you to see, oh joy, another Sans. This one is all blushes, and he’s giggling, staring up at you with big eyes that have stars in them. Stars? Okay, well, that’s new. He’s wearing what looks to be a smaller form of the top of Papyrus’ battle body and black jeans, with a light blue version of Papy’s scarf - though it seems a bit shorter, almost like an oversized handkerchief - and a matching blue cape billowing back over his shoulders, fluttering gently in a non-existent wind, just like the tall skeleton's scarf. He’s a bit smaller than the other Sanses, and his face is submerged part way in the soft-looking material, but you can see a wide grin stretching over the top of it, and his bony little hands are grasping tightly at the top of it. He shuffles a lot, seeming to never stand still as he shifts and bounces while cheerfully beaming up at you, blue booted feet never in the same spot for more than a second. His eyes sparkle when you smile at him, stars shining even brighter (if that's even possible) as he introduces himself.

“Hi! I’m Sans too! THE MAGNIFICENT SANS!” He declares loudly in a high pitched voice, before laughing. “Mwehehe but you can call me Blueberry, everyone else does! It’s really nice to meet you, Y/N, I’ve heard so much about you! Can I have a hug?” You’re about to respond when he keeps talking. “You’re even cuter than I imagined! You’re so tall, and so cool, wowie!” He jumps into your arms for a hug and you hold him with a smile. The little guy reminds you of an even more innocent Papyrus, with even more energy. You giggle a bit and set him down, going to pat his head as a dark figure catches your eye.

He’s standing in the corner, and he looks just like your Sans, almost identical, except for the fact that he’s wearing a spider-black cloak, cowl up, sockets empty as he stares directly at you, or as much as you can assume. The mantle is torn at the bottom edges, and it’s long enough to touch the ground as well as spread around him about a foot in each direction. Idly, you wonder how he got it to spread around himself so perfectly even, when you notice that he has an intricate Gaster Blaster skull pin securing the edges of the cloak together just below his chin, giving an otherworldly sense to his imposing figure. A shiver runs down your spine as you stare into his sockets, your head tilting slightly to the side as you try to look closer. As if he’s trying to make you feel better, he ignites his blue eye, black veins interlaced with the ice blue as his fixed grin widens just slightly, almost miniscule enough that you didn’t notice it. 

“Sorry Y/N, I don’t have regular eyelights, so this’ll have to do,” this mysterious Sans says in a voice that sounds deep, yet almost musical, bouncing around in your head as if he isn't speaking aloud, yet rather directly into your mind. “I don’t have a name, truly, so you can just call me Grim, or Reaper. Don’t really care which. Excuse me if I don’t greet you with a handshake or a hug as I am unaccustomed to physical contact. There is the additional possibility that my powers may just send you to the Underworld, even in a separate universe such as this. I hope that this will do.” He inclines his head slightly in a respectful gesture of what you assume to be greeting before his eye dims again into blackness and his skull withdraws back into the folds of his cloak, obscuring his face. Unnerved, you smile uncertainly, not sure how to respond to this unsettling declaration, ultimately deciding against replying whatsoever. This Sans is slightly if not wholly terrifying, you admit to yourself. Speaking of Sans, you glare at yours slightly, feeling Blueberry - Berry, you decide to call him since Blueberry is a bit long - cling to your leg as you do so. 

“Sans, what the actual FUCK is going on right now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying <3 have a great day and feel free to comment and leave me love, they keep me going!
> 
> Tumblr: ashes-before-flame.tumblr.com
> 
> Thank to my lovely Beta, my sister Kaylee who is my co writer on here <3 
> 
> Just for clarification, and so you all know who is who, here's what I'll be calling each of the characters and the universes they belong to:  
> MET SO FAR:  
> Sans: Undertale  
> Red: Underfell  
> Berry: Underswap  
> Grim: Reapertale  
> SOON TO BE JOINED BY:  
> Note: Undertone  
> Tech: Cybertale  
> G: Gaster!Sans  
> Dust: Dusttale
> 
> Smooches! ☆u☆


	2. In which Red gets his ass handed to him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't you be disrespecting Reader. She can put you in your place.
> 
> A bit of explanation as to why everyone's here in your universe.
> 
> A bit of adorable bonding with Berry and Papy.
> 
> Smooches! ☆u☆

Sans laughs awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot, and shrugs his shoulders ever so slightly. “Uh, can we talk in private about this? I’d really rather not have all these guys interjecting and thinking they’re clever,” he says, gesturing to the stairs. You sigh a bit, rolling your eyes, before nodding. 

“Come back soon, kay?” Red says, popping his head up from the couch. You guess he wasn’t asleep after all, the little fucker. He shoots you another wink. Damn, that winking is really hard to ignore (you’re just naturally a flirt) so you wiggle your eyebrows at him. 

“If you wanted me to come, you should have just said something,” you say in a suggestive voice, shimmying your hips a little bit before turning away from him, but not before noticing him grit his teeth, cheekbones turning bright red as a low chuckle from Grim hovers in the air around you.

“I didn’t… Ah fuck, Sansy, why didn’t ya tell me the bitch was a flirt?” He asks, sounding angry. Your eyes flash at what he called you and you turn around, growling, before walking to the chaise quickly, before Sans can stop you. There are many things you put up with, but being degraded - especially in front of other people - is not one of them. Or monsters, in this case. You grip the fur of his jacket and yank him up hard and fast. Huh, lighter than you thought. Much lighter than your Sans. He burrows his face down into his jacket as you grit your teeth and stare him right in the eyelights, and they fade slightly as you recognize something in them. You fight the urge to grin as you realize he’s SCARED of you. 

“If you ever, EVER call me anything like that, EVER again, you won’t take another fucking breath, you little prick,” you hiss threateningly. “And until you learn your FUCKING manners,” you nearly shout the swear at him, “you can call me Ma’am, you asshole.” You see the chastised look on his face, mixed in with fear as you chuck him back down on the couch (maybe a little too roughly, a little bit of regret pricks in the back of your mind, if he’s got the same stats as your Sans), and whirl around, stalking back to the foot of the stairs, giving your Sans a bright smile. He looks at you with another small sigh, then beckons you to come up with him. You nod, and he takes a shortcut upstairs, the lazy bones. You twist your head around one more time to look back at Red, seeing Berry kneeling by the couch, checking if he's okay. Red seems to be fine, trying to shove the concerned skeleton away from him, a dark red shade of magic still dusting across his cheekbones as he does so. He looks embarrassed, and you combat the impulse to giggle. You can just slightly see Grim’s skull peeking out from the shadow of his cloak, and he looks impressed. Satisfied with the response from the room, you turn back and walk confidently upstairs.

You find Sans in Papyrus’ bedroom, which makes a certain amount of sense to you. In here, you wouldn’t break things like you tend to do if you get angry. Papyrus is off limits to violence, even his belongings, from how much Sans cares about him, so his bedroom is the perfect neutral meeting place. He’s sitting on the racecar bed that he had brought from the Underground for Papyrus, looking sheepish in his blue hoodie, and he pats the mattress next to him with a small smile. You raise an eyebrow, still standing in the doorway, and fold your arms with an expectant look. His sockets close for a moment as he sighs.

“C’mon, y/n. This is going to be a long story, and you might as well be comfy for it.” You relent and amble to the bed, sitting on the edge and looking at him pointedly. He raises his hands in defense, then sighs again. He’s been doing that a lot today. “Alright, you know how I told you about the multiple timelines, and the resets?” You nod, biting back the fact that he wasn’t the one who broke the news to you. In reality, you knew about the resets before he told you about them, you lived your life on the surface over and over again as the resets were happening in the underground. You really wish you don’t remember them, but you shove that to the back of your mind, paying attention to what Sans has to say. 

“So, there’s more than just one timeline here in this universe, right? Infinite amounts of them, maybe even ones we haven’t began yet. The thing is, there’s also more than just one universe. Ones where monsters never were sealed in the underground, ones where magic works differently, ones where everyone is violent. There’s so many of them, and these guys are from some of them.” You ponder that a moment. 

“So these are all alternate versions of you, right?” You ask slowly, and he nods. “Okay. I can deal with that. BUT WHY, FOR FUCK’S SAKE, ARE THEY ALL IN OUR LIVING ROOM?” He snorts quietly.

“Well, here’s the thing. I was working in my lab in Snowdin last night,” you shoot him a glare, “yes, that’s why I was gone all day, and why I missed dinner. You know I’m always trying to find a way to get my dad back. Papy doesn’t even remember him, you know.” You nod solemnly, a pang shooting through your heart a bit at the words. He’s right, Sans and you are the only ones who know about Gaster, the man whose being - and even the memory of him - is shattered across time and space, drifting aimlessly in the void. Another sigh from him pulls you back to the conversation. “Anyway, I was working on the dimensional transporter, trying to find a way if I can go and look for the pieces of his SOUL, but something went wrong. It started smoking, the metal started to flux, and before I could get away, it exploded. I didn’t run, though I probably should have. I’m BONE to be wild, ya know?” You make a sound that’s half groan, half chuckle. 

“Really Sans? Puns right now?” He laughs.

“What can I say? I’ve got too many skele-puns in my closet,” he states matter-of-factly, and you shove him playfully. “Anyway, I passed out. When I woke up, the teleporter was gone, probably destroyed itself from trying to hold a link between universes. In any case, Red was standing over me, and before I could stand up, he told me that the others were gone, except for him, Blueberry, and Grim.”

“Wait,” I interrupt. “The OTHERS? There’s more Sanses walking around this universe?” He nods with a shrug. 

“Yeah, but I sent them a message, they’ll be here soon enough. We all know each other, we managed to establish a link between our seven worlds a while ago. Nothing physical, just video communication, but at least we know each other. It seems like they all happened to blow up their own transporters at the same time, but since this universe holds the establishing link, they all ended up here. I figure the machine’s shutdowns didn’t work properly so it was still running as it overheated, and dragged them all here. As for why Blueberry is here when he isn’t a scientist, his Papyrus didn’t feel comfortable with being the only Pap in our little group of Sanses, so he let Blueberry in on the Alternate Universe stuff and let him be the one to talk to us. He never really cares much anyway, he’s lazier than me,” he says with a huff. “We were all in a dimension chat - we were sharing ideas for completing the machine - when everything went to hell, so at least we all know what’s going on. I figure the others just went to explore this universe a bit before joining our little party.” He goes silent, done with his explanation. Your mind is swirling, trying to make sense of it all. You think Sans went into a bit too much detail for you right now, kind of rambling on about his theories instead of just leaving it to the facts, and it’s overwhelming you. 

Suddenly you realize why he was rambling: it was to cover up a small tidbit that he let slip a moment ago.

“SEVEN GOD-FUCKING-DAMN WORLDS? THERE’S SEVEN SANSES COMING TO OUR MOTHERFUCKING HOUSE? WHERE THE EVERLOVING FUCK ARE WE GONNA PUT ALL OF THEM?” Sans withdraws into his hoodie as you grab a fistful of the front of it, screeching in his face as he looks up at you, lazy smile spread on his face.

“We could always set em up in the basement?” he says, not worried at all as you wheeze in his face. You feel like steam is going to come out of your ears before relaxing back, letting go of Sans with one last heavy puff of air escaping your lips. You shake your head, propping your palms against your forehead as you slouch forward. Seven Sanses. Sometimes you could barely handle one, and now there was going to be SEVEN of them living with you for god-knows how long. You sigh a bit. 

“Fine. And we’ll clear out the garage as well, set something up in there. Since it’s temperature controlled, it shouldn’t be too bad. Since you said the seven of US, I assume that there’ll be six of them staying, so we’ll put three of them in the basement and three in the garage. Or wherever they end up around here, since that’ll help with crowding. Maybe one of them will take to the office, or the balcony or something…” You muse a bit while thinking over living arrangements. “You’re paying for their furniture though, Sans.”

He grins. “Not a problem, y/n.” He stands up, offering you a hand and you take it, standing up with him, stumbling a bit as you’re hit with a wave of dizziness from standing too quickly. That’s when you hear a lamp crash downstairs and you both swivel towards the door. “Ah fuck,” he mumbles, pulling you along as (for some reason) he decides to run downstairs instead of just teleporting.

“TACOS WILL ALWAYS BE BETTER THAN SPAGHETTI! TACOS ARE THE GREATEST, SO SAYS THE MAGNIFICENT SANS MWEHEHE!” You hear Berry shout as you shoot down the stairs. “Y/N WILL LOVE THEM SO MUCH THAT SHE’LL NEVER EAT YOUR SPAGHETTI AGAIN!” You and Sans skid to a halt at the bottom of the stairs and take in the mess in front of you.

The Convenient Lamp that Sans brought from the Underground is lying on the ground, a crack running up the side of it. Red is backed up on the far end of the couch, warily eyeing the scene in front of him while Grim has backed into the corner of the room, melding with the shadows as he intently watches the fight. Berry has his chest puffed out, standing at the feet of Papyrus - who you assume had taken over care of your guests while you and Sans had your talk - with his stars shining angrily up at the taller skeleton, arms thrown back in a childish pose of indignation. The urge to laugh at the tiny skeleton glaring up at the EXTREMELY tall Papyrus (who has his arms folded in front of his Battle Body) and trying to look tough is almost too much to handle, but you restrain yourself. Papy bends over, arms still folded, butt pushed out behind him as he lowers himself to Berry’s level.

“YOU CANNOT FATHOM THE WONDROUS NATURE OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS’ SPAGHETTI, LITTLE SANS! THERE IS NO NEED FOR OTHER NOURISHMENT WHEN THE NOODLES OF GREATNESS RESIDE IN A HOUSEHOLD!” Sans clears his throat to get their attention.

“I can’t understand why you two are fighting. You’re skeletons, nothing can get under your skin!” he starts laughing and you hear a snicker from Red, as well as notice a small increase in Grim’s smile from the corner. You shoot all of them glares before turning to cool down the fuming skeletons as Papyrus glares at him indignantly. He hates puns, especially when they’re in a serious moment. “Seriously bro, you guys need to chill your bones,” he wheezes out before falling over from laughter.

“BROTHER, PLEASE! THIS IS A MATTER OF UTMOST IMPORTANCE!” he turns to you, disregarding the figure of Sans on the ground, quivering with glee. “HUMAN Y/N, THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT. YOUR SWEARING UPSTAIRS WILL BE ADDRESSED AT A LATER TIME, BUT THIS CONFLICT NEEDS TO END HERE. TELL THIS… THIS… SMALL CREATURE THAT MY SPAGHETTI IS THE MOST DELICIOUS THING YOU’VE EVER EATEN.” You’re not sure how to respond when Berry stomps over to you, shoulders up to his ears as he pouts up at you.

“Y/N, I TOLD THIS STUPID PAPYRUS THAT I WANTED TO MAKE YOU TACOS FOR DINNER, BUT HE SAYS IT’S SPAGHETTI NIGHT. I WANTED TO MAKE MY SENSATIONAL TACOS FOR YOU AS A PRESENT,” he shouts up at you, head tilting down and eye sockets closing as ice blue tears appear at the corners of them. “I ASKED HIM IF I COULD MAKE DINNER TOMORROW THEN, AND HE SAID THAT EVERY DAY IS SPAGHETTI NIGHT!” The tears are flooding down his cheeks now, without stop. You look at Papyrus, and he makes a face that tells you to tell Berry that you want spaghetti. You sigh, then crouch down next to Berry as an idea comes to your mind.

“Hey Berry?” You ask, and his eyes shoot open and his stars shine at the nickname. 

“YES Y/N?” He looks so hopeful. 

“You can make dinner tonight okay? I would love to try your tacos.” Papyrus makes an annoyed noise through his nose.

“BUT Y/N, YOU SAID WE COULD HAVE MY SPECIAL SPAGHETTI TONIGHT! I WAS GOING TO COOK IT JUST FOR YOU!” He declares, looking like he’s about to cry. You straighten up. 

“Well, Papyrus, you’re going to make dinner too.” He looks confused, but then excited, bringing his hands together in a clap in front of his chestplate. You hold up a hand to stop him, however. “And before you start thinking it, no we’re not going to have a cook off to see whose dish is better.” He looks crestfallen, pouting in just the same way that Berry is. They’re both in front of you now, confused and pouting at you. You smile a bit, thinking how cute and similar they are to each other. “Do you know why? I’m cooking dinner too. We’re gonna cook it together, okay? The three of us! Sans can take care of the other guys for a while. I’ve got a special dish in mind, too!” They look unsure, then at the same time they brighten up. 

“OKAY Y/N!” They chorus together, before turning to each other and glaring daggers. You could feel the magical tension in the air as energy saps between the two. You rub your temples: this is going to be a long evening. 

“Okay guys. Sans, I leave Red and Grim to you,” you say, and you could almost swear he looks pissed at the prospect. You turn back to Papyrus and Berry. “Alright, you two, we’re gonna teach you how to get along. We’ve gotta make sure that we end up with enough food for everyone, okay? And maybe even some extra in case another Sans shows up.” You lead them into the kitchen. You turn to Papyrus first. “Go make your special noodles, and that sauce I like so much, okay?” He looks excited.

“LEAVE IT TO ME, Y/N! YOU WILL NOT BE DISAPPOINTED! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS ON THE JOB, NYE HEH HEH” He declares before running to the pantry to grab what he needs. You lean down to Berry, who looks really sad.

“Berry, what’s wrong?” You ask softly, taking his hand. He blubbers softly, almost crying again.

“Y… Y… Y/N,” He snivels, much quieter than normal. “I thought you said we were going to make d-d-dinner together?” He looks up at you, stars small and fuzzy. You laugh softly and rub his skull fondly. 

“And we are! You can make taco shells yourself, right buddy?” His stars brighten a bit. 

“Y-Yeah, but…” you cut him off. 

“In that pantry over there you’ll find what you need to make them, kay? I want you to make me your favorite taco topping, and the best taco shells I’ve ever eaten!” His eyes shine bright again and he bounces up and hugs you, planting a small skeleton kiss quickly on your cheek.

“YOU CAN COUNT ON ME, Y/N! THEY’LL BE SO GOOD YOU’LL NEVER WANT ANYONE ELSE’S TACO SHELLS AGAIN!” And with that, he bounds over to the pantry that Papyrus had just left, arm full, and starts rummaging through the ingredients. With a happy smile (these two are just too innocent and cute for you), you turn to the fridge and grab out what you’re looking for. You pull the fresh ground meat out of the temperature controlled drawer, and set to work combining the ingredients for spicy meatballs. The two excited skeletons are whirling around the kitchen around you so fast, you’re surprised neither of them have bumped into each other or hurt themselves at all. You guess they really do know how to cook with someone else. Then again, Papyrus always cooks with Undyne, and you figure Berry has his own tutor in his universe, so it’s not really as surprising as you first thought it would be. Soon enough, they both stand in front of you proudly, brandishing their complete items. You smile at them both nodding sagely.

“Alright, you guys ready to find out what we’re making?” they both nod eagerly, excitement making their bones quiver as they watch you bring out everything you’ve prepared. “Cool, I’ll show you how to assemble them.” You pick up one of Sans’ taco shells (with a hint of confusion, you realize they look like they have glitter mixed in with the dough, but you write it off as your imagination) and your own bowl of goodies. They both watch intently as you take the tongs and put a small amount of Papyrus’ noodles into the bottom of the shell, followed by a spoonful of your mini spicy meatballs just on top of that, then a thin layer sour cream before slathering on a good amount of Pap’s special spaghetti sauce, before reaching into the other bowl that Berry had brought. “Chives and Feta cheese, this is a wonderful combination, Berry!” You declare as he giggles and hides his face in his scarf, star eyes sparkling proudly. You put a sprinkle on top, then set the completed dish down on a large serving plate. “Ta-da!” You say with a giggle. They look at it and gasp.

“S-Spaghetti…” Papyrus starts, his voice barely above a whisper as he gazes in complete awe at the simple item of food in front of him.

“T-T-Tacos?” Berry finishes, looking up at you with his eyes tearing up. You scratch the back of your head and smile brightly, closing your eyes and shrugging.

“Yeah, spaghetti tacos! I wanted to show you that maybe they aren’t as different and competitive as you thought they were.” You laugh lightly before letting out your breath in an oof of air as a little blue cannonball hits you in the stomach, arms wrapped tightly around you. You laugh softly and wrap your arms around Berry as you hear his sniffles and giggles combine, before you promptly feel your feet leave the ground and you screech as Papyrus’ strong arms wrap around you, lifting you in the air while he laughs gleefully. The NYEHs and the MWEHs combine with your own loud laugh as he swings you all back and forth before putting you down gently. You all wipe your eyes from the tears of laughter before looking at the plate. “Well, you guys want to start assembling these?”

It takes about twenty minutes because of how much of everything that you all had made, but you eventually have a pile of around 50 Spaghetti Tacos stacked precariously on the serving plate. “Go ahead and get everyone ready to eat, guys, I’ll carry these in.” Papyrus stops your hand before reaching the tray, however. 

“NO, Y/N, WE MADE THESE TOGETHER, AND WE WILL BRING THEM TO EVERYONE TOGETHER AS WELL!” he proclaims, effortlessly lifting the carefully balanced plate with ease. “YOU CAN GRAB THE PLATES, AND BLUEBERRY, YOU GRAB SOME NAPKINS, OKAY?” Berry nodded, tension from earlier gone.

“I’LL HELP OUT HOWEVER I CAN!” he bellows, grabbing the pile from the countertop as you pull down six plates from the cupboard. “LET’S GO SHOW THEM WHAT ME MADE!” 

You bring out the meal you made together, Papyrus setting the tray on the coffee table as you and Berry hand out the plates and napkins. “We made these together for you guys!” you say, smiling widely at everyone as you hand them their plates. Red accepts his with a grunt and an angry blush as you wink at him. You have already forgiven him for earlier, but he seems to still be a bit sour because of your treatment of him.

“Thanks, ma’am,” he says uncertainly, clenching his teeth as he looks at you with a slight bit of disdain. You sigh softly.

“Don’t call me that, Red. Just call me Y/N like the rest of them, I’m not mad anymore. As long as you don’t insult me like that again, we’ll be alright. Mmkay?” He looks up at you, clearly confused at your mood swings as you smile at him happily, holding your arms open for a hug. He seems to decide that it’s alright, and agrees quietly.

“Alright… Y/N,” he says almost too quietly to hear, a red flush covering his cheekbones as you hug him tight, then move onto Grim. He’s moved out of his corner, but he’s still standing, watching everyone carefully. However, he’s pullen his hood off, and other than his empty sockets, he looks identical to Sans. Looking closer, you realize his eye sockets are at a slightly sharper angle, but it’s almost negligible. You’re starting to be able to read where he’s looking, even without eyelights. He shifts to the direction his gaze follows just slightly, and that’s enough for you to be able to tell.

“Here ya go, Grim,” you say brightly, handing him a plate that you had already loaded six tacos onto, taking care to avoid touching his hands. You’re afraid he’s going to take that as a sign that you’re repulsed by him, but instead he smiles appreciatively. “I would invite you to sit down, but I know you’re afraid of touching anyone right now. And now, you don’t have to worry about brushing into anyone!” A soft gray blush covers his cheekbones. What is it with these Sanses and blushing when I do something nice? You wonder before he speaks up.

“Thank you very much, Y/N,” he speaks softer than usual, and his voice doesn’t bounce around your head like it did the other times he had spoken. Because it isn’t as dizzying, you begin to appreciate just how melodic his deep voice is, a smooth baritone with a low hum behind it. “Usually people aren’t so considerate of me.” You smile even brighter, wanting to hug this skeleton who looks so lonely.

“No problem at all, Grim! It’s my pleasure, really!” you turn to everyone else, who already have their plates and are ready to dig in. “Let’s eat!” You all take around 4 or 5 tacos from the pile and take a bite, soft sounds of happiness coming from everyone. Surprisingly, Red’s the first one to speak up.

“Damn this shit’s good,” he declares, Papyrus shooting him a look for his language, but not being able to say anything with his mouth full, he just irritatedly hums in agreement. A chorus of happy grunts and hums follow his, and you smile again, even wider. You haven’t smiled this much in a long time, maybe it’s a good thing that these strange Sanses showed up out of the blue. You make a contented sound in the back of your throat, and you realize that you’re happy. Very, very happy. A sound on the porch pulls you out of your stupor however, and you look up.

A knock comes at the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying <3 have a great day and feel free to comment and leave me love, they keep me going!
> 
> Tumblr: ashes-before-flame.tumblr.com
> 
> Thank to my lovely Beta, my sister Kaylee who is my co writer on here <3 
> 
> Smooches! ☆u☆


	3. In which shit gets real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red and Reader have a cute moment.
> 
> Megalovania ensues.
> 
> Grim shows what he's really made of.
> 
> A questionable decision is made.
> 
> Smooches! ☆u☆

You look expectantly to Sans, assuming that he’s going to get up and get the door. He gives you a lazy smile, quirking a (non existent) eyebrow before gesturing with his left hand when no one gets up to get the door. Another knock comes and he decides to speak.

 

“Well, aintcha gonna see who it is? Could be something important.” You fold your arms and shoot him a scathing glare.

 

“Something important, right. More like another one of your buddies here wanting to come in and overhaul my once-peaceful life,” you mumble under your breath. “Sans, get your lazy butt up and go get the door, your little experiment is the reason why we’re in this predicament in the first place. Besides, I made dinner and you sat on your ass the whole time. Get your lazybones up and invite whoever it is, inside.” Another knock, this time more urgent comes at the door. Sans groans and slowly pulls himself up off the couch, making a big show of the effort that it’s taking him, before dragging his feet out of the living room and into the entryway. 

 

You scoff a bit at his theatrics before turning to Red, who happens to be hunched into the corner of the opposite end of the couch, huddled in his jacket as he eyes you warily. He looks like he can’t decide how he feels about your presence, and you give him a friendly smile before scooting closer to him. If he could get any further away from you, you can tell that he would, pulling his knees even closer to his body.

 

“Red, c’mon. I couldn’t have scared you THAT much,” you say softly, keeping the gentle smile on your face as you reach out a hand to touch his shoulder. He flinches away from the contact, growling just barely audibly, and you quickly pull your hand back. With a sigh, you look down at your hands. “Look, I’m really sorry about earlier. I have a couple… issues. I didn’t mean to scare you or hurt you, I just - how to put it - it’s how I defend myself. I’m really sorry,” you mumble at him, feeling bad for making him afraid of you. He seems to relax a bit, then scoots closer.

 

“Look kid, I’m sorry too. In my universe, that’s just how we are. Insults and shit are a common thing, I didn’t know you’d react that way. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad by flinching, I don’t like to be touched when I’m not expecting it, so that’s my natural response,” he says to you, hesitantly placing his hand on yours, giving you a small smile. “I’ll tell ya why sometime, just not right now. Wanna start over?” He asks, red eye lights glowing warmly as he does. You smile brightly at that, trying to stop the warmth rushing to your cheeks at the contact. 

 

“Of course, I’d love to,” you say, quirking an eyebrow at him. “Just don’t call me bitch again. And don’t call me kid, either, I’m 27.” His eyes widen at that revelation before giving you a cocky smile.

 

“Alright, I’ll just hafta call ya sweetcakes then. I don’t do names.” You blush, pulling your hand away to hide your cheeks as a giggle escapes your lips. 

 

“Fine then,” you respond, not to be outdone, “verta-bae.” He blushes furiously, cheekbones glowing bright red, hiding back in his jacket but not before you hear him laugh deeply at your pun, and you hear Grim laugh as well, a deep, throaty sound as Berry just groans, seemingly sharing the same aversion to puns as your universe’s Papyrus. You smile up at Grim, thinking how nice it is to hear him laugh, and you’re about to ask him something when you hear a terrifying yell from the hallway.

 

“Why the fuck are you here?” Sans bellows, catching everyone’s attention and causing the smiles from moments before to turn to frowns. Quickly, you stand up and dash to the front door, determined to see what’s going on. You skid to a halt as you see someone shifting from foot to foot on the porch, hands tucked in his pockets. It’s yet another Sans, but this one looks much closer to yours than any of the others. Same skull shape, same blue hoodie, basketball shorts, fuzzy slippers, and all. The trademark smile is stretched across his skull, though it looks pained. There’s only a few differences you can see: there’s a hairline crack running from the bottom of his left eye to his nasal aperture, his hood is pulled up over his head, his eye lights are bright red, and he’s covered in… dust?

 

“Sans..?” you ask quietly. “Who’s this?” He looks back to you, a grimace planted on his face. His eye is flickering yellow and cyan, and you swear you can hear Megalovania humming in the background. 

 

“Y/N, get back. This guy is… dangerous. Can’t you see the dust covering him?” he looks at you with pleading in his eyes. You can tell how much he wants you to turn around and let him deal with this, but the distressed look in this terrifying Sans’ eyes tells you that he just needs someone to talk to. 

 

“No,” you decide, walking forward and extending your hand. Sans looks almost betrayed, but you put aside your guilt and give this new Sans a wide, welcoming smile. “Hi, you must be from another universe. My name is Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” You keep your hand extended, and he looks at it warily, smile still plastered firmly across his face.

 

“Please, hun, just go back to the livingroom, I can take care of him,” you hear your Sans say, desperation in his voice. You whirl around and stare him down, a determined look in your eye.

 

“No, Sans, can’t you tell that he’s scared? If you weren’t expecting him, then he has no idea what’s going on here. He’s lost and he doesn’t need you threatening him. Sure, he’s covered in dust, but there’s probably a reason. If I had judged you from your looks, we wouldn’t be here right now, so let me talk to him, alright?” He takes a step back, blue eye flaring wildly.

 

“Yeah, he’s got a reason for being covered in dust. I’ve seen his universe, he’s killed all our friends time and time again. He’s a monster in the most literal sense, a murderer. He shouldn’t be here, Y/N, and I’m not taking no for an answer.” He stands his ground this time, glaring fervently at you. You put your hands on your hips.

 

“And you killed Frisk time and again. You, the person who I know is most against violence. Something must have triggered it, he’s not his past. So step. The fuck. DOWN!” You’re in his face now, refusing to back down. His sockets go dark and he turns around. 

 

“Fine. Do what you want. But if you get hurt, don’t come crying to me. This is a bad idea, and we both know it. Come find me when you start acting sane,” he growls out before stepping through a shortcut. You heave a sigh, rubbing your temples before turning around to see this other Sans shuffling awkwardly in an action that seems eerily similar to something your Sans would do, hands stuffed deep in his pockets and he refuses to look at you.

 

“Y-you didn’t have to stand up for me. If it’s gonna make problems, I can just go,” he mutters, voice sounding hoarse from disuse, but you can tell it would sound the same as Sans’. You smile at him and shake your head.

 

“No, don’t worry about it. Sans is just a bit, shall we say, hard-skulled?” you snicker softly before continuing. “The rest of them in here will probably react the same, so do you mind if we talk outside?” he looks confused when you say the rest of them, but he nods, and you step outside, closing the door behind you. “So how’d you end up here?”

 

“I’m not sure,” he trails off, clearing his throat. You give a sad smile, recognizing the struggle of trying to talk after not doing so for a long time. “I was waiting for the human to confront me when I heard one of the machines in the lab go into meltdown. I heard an explosion, then I woke up here. I didn’t realize it was different at first, but then I realized that the barrier was broken, which would have never happened in my universe. I got a message on my phone saying to come here. I didn’t know what else to do…” He starts coughing up a storm, and reluctant to touch him in fear of an adverse reaction, you just sit and wait for him to quiet down before speaking.

 

“I guess the effect must have carried through to your universe, since I imagine it’s a lot like ours. You look almost the same as my Sans. There was a mistake and a whole bunch of alternate Sanses are here in our universe, but none that I’ve met seem to be so much like my Sans. Maybe the similarities established a link for some reason. In any case, may I ask what your universe is like?” you ask with a gentle voice. His face darkens.

 

“Death, lots of death,” he says quietly. “I didn’t know what to do, I tried everything but the human wouldn’t stop… killing everyone. I didn’t know what else to do,” his face is hidden now, retreated into his hood, but you can tell he’s crying from the hitch in his voice. “I thought that it would be better if I killed them, maybe I could get strong enough to kill the human, but any time I did they would just come back. Reset after reset, like they were playing with me, seeing how far they could push me, who could gain LOVE the fastest, but I couldn’t stop. My brother… I’ve killed so many times…” he goes silent, and you digest the information. So he isn’t a heartless killer. He’s just lost. You start to say something when he speaks up again, his hood falling back slightly and you see his left eye is glowing purple, like your Sans’ does.

 

“I’m not sure when I started to enjoy it,” he muses with a slight giggle. You flinch back a bit at his words, but he doesn’t notice as he’s staring at his hands, eye glowing brighter with every word while velvet tears keep pouring down his skull. “The dust blowing back in my face like a drug, the LOVE an adrenaline shot. The feeling of power,” he continues with a giggle as your soul starts to quake as his voice starts sounding more maniacal, “it’s like I’m not alive until I feel a bone in my hand beating the life out of someone, a sharpened edge plunging into soft flesh, ripping someone to shreds. It doesn’t matter who it is, the excitement is just too much, I crave it, I need to see the look of despair in someone’s eyes as the life leaves their body and they start to crumble underneath my phalanges,” he’s cackling as purple magic flows out of his left socket. You try to interject but he turns to you and continues, a spark of fear traveling down your spine as his hood falls off completely, revealing lacerations to the top off his skull, spiderwebbing along the white bone.

 

“But killing the human is the best. They don’t just turn to dust, I can feel the life force on my bones, the blood dripping onto me, the skin not turning to dust so I can feel it turning cold under my phalanges, the light leaving their eyes while I tear the dead sinew from their small frame,” he’s advanced on you, gripping your shoulders and pinning you to the side of the house, magic wrapping around you as he speaks. You can’t seem to make yourself move, terror freezing you in place as he leans down and sniffs your neck. “I can smell the iron of your blood,” he purrs as he presses his skull into your shoulder, grazing his teeth along the tender skin over your jugular vein, “I live for the next time I can feel it sliding across my bones, hot and sweet, like a mother’s milk as the sharp flavor crosses my palette. I can still taste the human’s life force across my tongue, hot, wet, metallic, the texture silky and smooth. My drug. I can’t help but wonder how yours tastes, if it’s sweeter and warmer, how different the sensation is, spreading across my tongue…” you feel a warm, dripping tongue on your neck and it pulls you out of your haze of fear, suddenly regaining your faculties. You force down the acrid taste of fear rising in the back of your throat, trying to pull you into a flashback, opting instead to raise your hand and slap the skeleton in front of you.

 

He goes silent and his brutal grip is suddenly gone, as well as the glowing purple eye. He takes a step back, fear and regret flashing across his grin-widened face as he raises his skeletal hand to touch his cheek, probably still stinging from the force you put behind your hand. As soon as he retreats, you sidestep him and back up a few feet, putting some distance between you and the psychotic skeleton in front of you. Your breath comes in short pants as he looks at you with anguish.

 

“Y/N, I’m sorry I didn’t mean…” he reaches toward you and you flinch away.  

 

“St-stay back,” you squeak, your neck still tingling where the smooth surface of his tongue was just dragging across. Your anxiety rolls over you like a wave, threatening to pull you into a panic attack, but you refuse to let it consume you, forcing your breathing to be rhythmic as you count backwards from a hundred in your head. He pulls his hand back, a look of shame on his face as he takes a step back.

 

“I’m sorry, I can’t… I don’t know what came over me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’M SORRY!” He wails, pressing his back into the siding of the house as he slides down and holds his skull in his hands, red tears streaking down his cheeks as he rocks back and forth. Seeing him like this helps calm you down, though your legs are still shaking. You hesitantly step towards him, reaching out and placing a hand on his skull, rubbing small, soothing circles with your thumb, feeling the quaking of his frame as you attempt to soothe him. As scared as you are, the kindness in your soul makes you press forward to comfort the quaking skeleton.

 

“Shh, shh, Sans, look at me please,” you speak to him in a clear voice, sounding much more confident than you feel, and hunch down to be on his level as he indecisively meets your gaze, grin still straining across his face (absently, you wonder if he can’t make any other expression). “It’s alright Sans. Let me tell you a secret,” you murmur, trailing your hand to his cheekbone while keeping the gentle kneading motion going. You aren’t sure why you feel the need to comfort him: if anyone needs comfort right now, it’s probably you, but there’s an instinct in you that says that he’s just lost and confused. “I can tell you have problems, I don’t blame you. But I understand, you didn’t know what else to do. You’re a victim of circumstances, and I,” you hesitate, “I know what that feels like. No escape, nothing you do seems to matter, so you do what you think you need to, just so that you can survive.” The look in his eye lights is desperate, but searching. Searching for the source of your understanding behind a well-constructed mask of happiness. He seems bewildered that someone so kind could harbor some dark secret that could make you empathize with a murderer. “You just need someone to bring you back to reality. Someone to nurse that little bit of hope - hope that you cling so desperately to - back to life and show you that there’s a new life for you. Please, Sans, I know where you’re at, let me help you.”

 

The tears have stopped, and he looks at you like you’re an angel. “How can you not hate me after hearing all that, after how I acted? You should be running away, not trying to help,” his broken voice cracks. You give him a small smile, and then pull him into a hug. He’s surprised, but hesitantly wraps his arms around you, and you feel his wide smile get a bit bigger, and it seems sincere for the first time. You pull back, offering an encouraging smile. 

 

“You can stay here with us, alright? Everyone else might not be comfortable with having you very close, but I’ve got a shed out back that we can set up for you. I’ll make sure that the other Sanses don’t bother you too much, I won’t let them hurt you.” he looks appreciative before a thought occurs to you. “We need a name to differentiate you from the other Sanses. The other guys have been calling this universe’s Sans Sansy, and so far we also have Red, Grim, and Blueberry. What can we call you?” He smiles at you before quietly answering.

 

“How about Dust?” You smile back at him,

 

“Perfect. Nice to meet you, Dust. Want to come inside and meet everyone?” he tentatively nods, so you stand up and offer him a hand. “C’mon, let’s go introduce you to everyone,” you declare with a smile as you open the door and lead him inside, hand in hand. Halting outside the doorway to the living room, you give him a serious look. “Please let me do the talking, this… Might not go very well.” He nods hesitantly and you drop his hand with a reassuring smile. You move for the doorway and beckon with your head for him to follow. As soon as you make it through, Berry perks up. 

 

“AH! ANOTHER SANS! I AM THE MAGNIFICENT SA- I MEAN, BLUEBERRY! IT’S A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU!” He jumps off the couch and goes to make a move towards Dust, but suddenly Red is in front of him, sleeved arm outstretched and holding him back, crouched slightly in an almost predatory pose. “HEY! RED, WHY ARE YOU ATTEMPTING TO STOP ME?” Berry looks confused, but doesn’t try to push through.

 

“This guy… there’s something wrong with him,” Red growls out, right eyelight going out while his left light blazes brightly, just like Sans’ and Dust’s do in their respective colors. “Stay back, if ya know what’s good for ya, kid.” Berry pouts at him, folding his arms and puffing out his chest.

 

“HEY! I’M NOT A BABY BONES! I CAN HANDLE MYSELF, DON’T CALL ME KID! BESIDES, THERE’S NO CHALLENGE THAT THE SENSATIONAL SANS CANNOT MEET!” he tries to push past Red, but he continues to stop him, turning to face him. 

 

“No, Blue, don’t even try. I can sense the LOVE in his soul. Ya may be able to stand your own against the weaklings of your universe, but this… this monster isn’t right. He’s dangerous,” the tone of voice that Red uses has Berry shrinking back. A part of you thinks that it’s cute how Red is trying to protect Blue, but another part of you is roiling in anger at how Dust shrinks back at the negative reaction that he’s receiving from Red. You can feel your cheeks heating up in passion as Red turns back to face Dust. 

 

“Guys, this is Dust,” you say clearly, and the others’ eye lights narrow at the nickname, obviously realizing what was covering his clothes. “Y’all best not be pullin’ this shit right now, ya hear me?” you slip into a slight southern accent as your temper flares. They’re judging Dust from a mere glimpse at him, just as your Sans had when he answered the door. “You’re going to give him a warm welcome. He’s going to be staying with us, and that’s final. He’s stuck here just the same as you all are, and deserves to be treated with the same courtesy, regardless of where he came from. Ya hear me?” Red’s sockets go dark, a menacing growl forming in his throat, as he turns his attention to you.

 

“Look sweetcheeks, you obviously don’t know about how it goes down in the Underground regardless of the universe, but that much LOVE on one monster…” a shudder wracks his small frame. “I can’t even fathom how many he’s killed to get to that point. And from the looks of his soul, it ain’t the first time he’s done it either. Not even in my universe, where violence is commonplace and having LOVE is respected, would that much LOVE be a good thing. I don’t know what all ya guys talked about outside, but he doesn’t belong here,  _ with us, _ ” he hisses out the last two words. You fold your arms across your chest.

 

“You know what? Maybe I don’t know what it’s like in the Underground, maybe I don’t know the significance of LOVE. Maybe I don’t know what it’s like in your universe, but you know what, Red? You don’t know what his universe is like either. From what I’ve seen, he’s broken and lost,” you don’t notice the flinches from the skeleton beside you as you speak your observations, “he didn’t think he had any other choice, and who are you to judge? What would you do if time and time again, the same person took away everything from you? Your friends, your family? Maybe you would lose your mind a bit too. I know I did,” you finish, a pointed look on your face as you glare at Red. A look of shock crosses his skull momentarily, and for a moment you wonder why before realizing your slip up. He looks properly chastised, though, and you hope that he would glaze over it, when he starts speaking again.

 

“Ya know what? Fine,” he mumbles at you, defeat written across his features. “I won’t bother him if he stays, but sweetcheeks, what do you mean-” You gulp as you prepare to face the question you don’t think you have the strength to confront yet, when Grim clears his throat. Everyone’s eyes turn to him, simultaneously realizing that they had forgotten his presence in the tense atmosphere that has formed in between the other skeletons. Your cheeks heat up a bit in embarrassment for forgetting him before he speaks, his words driving into your stomach like a spear, as well as your head. This is a voice you’ve never heard from him before, authoritative and demanding of attention, discord echoing through every syllable as the words pound through your skull, aching and definitive.

 

“Sans Serif Gaster of the Universe of Dust,” he begins, eyelights locked onto Dust’s as he speaks, and each word brings him a step closer to you, and you instinctively take a couple steps back out of fear, now slightly behind Dust’s shoulder. “Your soul has been judged. I, Grim Reaper, the embodiment of Wisdom, Magic, and Death, have looked deep within you. Your sins are unmatched in my observation as Judge and Reaper of souls, no one less worthy of mercy. Truly, I do not see anything worth saving inside of you. You have killed mercilessly, out of good intentions I must admit, but not pure ones. Out of fear you have laid waste to a myriad of souls, time and again, and any hope of redemption has fled from within you, along with the last of your determination to save those you love. What say you to the judgement passed upon you?” Grim stands a yard in front of Dust, whom you can see is shaking, the clattering of his bones audible even over the cacophony of Grim’s voice reverberating through your mind.

 

“I…” Dust speaks up quietly, his weak and hoarse voice a harsh contrast to the striking force behind Grim’s. Everyone in the room can feel the weight and influence behind the ghostly skeleton’s words, and just the fact that Dust can speak a single word speaks volumes to his determination. “I honestly have nothing to say for myself. No, my intentions were not pure, my acts based on desperation. I couldn’t see another route, but there’s no excuse for my deeds. To an extent, I began enjoying the routine, if only to alleviate the guilt and burden of my sins. This was wrong, and as you say, any hope of redemption really has fled from me.” Dust takes a deep breath and bows his head. “Pass your judgement upon me, I truly deserve whatever consequence my actions cause you to deal.” Grim nods solemnly, pulling his hood back while his eye begins to glow blue. He holds out his hand and misty black smoke extends around it, solidifying into a five foot long scythe, the arching, curved blade obviously wicked sharp, enough that one would think they could cut themselves from lust looking at it too closely.

 

“Very well,” his eerie voice echoes through your head, quieter and more portentous than before. “Sans Serif Gaster of the Universe of Dust, I condemn your soul to the Underworld, where you are to suffer for all eternity in order to atone for your sins. This is the Judgement you have accepted, and the penalty for your crimes.” He raises his arm, scythe extending behind him, and brings it down over the bowed head of Dust, swift and heavy, an unstoppable force of the God of Death.

 

“NO!” you scream as the blade falls, and before you can think about what you’re doing, you step forward and into the blade’s path, raising your arm directly towards the cutting edge as you do the thing that comes most natural to you: protect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying <3 have a great day and feel free to comment and leave me love, they keep me going!
> 
> Tumblr: ashes-before-flame.tumblr.com
> 
> Thank to my lovely Beta, my sister Kaylee who is my co writer on here <3 
> 
> Smooches! ☆u☆


	4. In which whiskey ensues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A protector emerges
> 
> We learn a very VERY small bit about Reader's past
> 
> And we commence the alcohol
> 
> Smooches! ☆u☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER!!!!  
> Slightly Referenced Past Trauma, Including  
> -Non Consensual Sexual Activites  
> -Damagingly Restraining a Minor  
> -Apparent Damage To A Nice Wood Table (I'd count this as a trigger)  
> ~~~~~NOTE: ONLY REFERENCED, NOT DESCRIBED, I'LL BE AVOIDING HEAVY DESCRIPTIONS OF NON CONSENTUAL ACTIVITIES IN THIS FIC AS A WHOLE, THOUGH EXPECT SOME MAJOR VIOLENCE AND TORTURE, BOTH PSYCOLOGICAL AND PHYSICAL. NOT IN THIS CHAPTER THOUGH, HERE WE ONLY HAVE A PARAGRAPH OR SO OF IMPLIED NON CONSENT TO SEXUAL ACTIVITIES.~~~~~  
> Heavily Described Anxiety/Panic Attack  
> Smoking And Recreational Alcohol Use
> 
> This chapter does have plot relevant information, including the trauma itself, so if you can handle it, please read it. IF YOU ARE NOT, PLEASE SKIP THE SECTION I WILL HAVE MARKED WITH  
> ~~~~~~~~~~

The room is silent other than labored breathing from - assumedly - you, and your eyes are cinched shut, preparing for a pain that never comes. Hesitantly, you squint one eye open, to see the scythe’s point hovering several inches from your open palm, a strange orchid-pink glow in the shape of a curved shield pulsing protectively against said blade, a haze of the same color hovering several feet in each direction. You gasp softly, eyes focused on the strange shape, acting almost like what Sans has called kindness magic. Could this be… magic? Tentatively, you look around the room and notice that all eyelights in the room are focused on the shield as well. Disbelief is written all over everyone’s faces, but none more so than Grim, who stands in front of you, arms shaking as he attempts to register what just happened.

 

“Wh-what?” his voice is as shaky as his body, trembling in either fear or anger, you’re not sure which. “How are you doing that? This scythe isn’t corporeal, it can only touch my hands or someone’s soul, there’s no possible way to stop it! Even in a universe where my powers are not working properly, this should not happen. This is a sacred weapon, and in so works properly throughout the universes, as it does not properly belong to one. How did you stop it?” He pauses momentarily. “And why did you stop me? This skeleton should be sent to the underworld, there’s no other way to atone!” Your eyes narrow at his words, anger broiling beneath your skin as you clench your jaw. You’re terrified at the thought of the blade, just inches from your hand, ready to cleave your soul as your arm trembles from holding your arm up for so long.

 

“How dare you. You come into my universe, as a guest in my house, and pull this shit? Drop the scythe, Grim,” you growl out, and hesitates for a moment before reluctantly complying as you drop your shaking arm as well. Angry words rise to your lips, instinctual and heavy as they seem to be given to you from some unknown part of you, resounding through your soul. “You may consider yourself the judge of the soul, and you may see the sin that’s heavy there. The LOVE that clings to beings is what you see, and you see no way to redeem a broken, lost soul. You think you know what the right thing to do is, you think the soul is all that there is,” a snarl breaks past your lips and your next words surprise even you. “You may be the Judge of Souls, but I’m the Keeper of the Heart. The soul can be damaged and weighed down by actions, but the intent behind those actions is the counterbalance to those sins. The death of hope and crushing of optimism leads many down a dark path. I should know. However, I see the light that may no longer cling to the soul, but instead resides deep within a creature’s heart. I nurture that light, I bring those who fall back into the radiance of hope. 

 

“You may send souls to the underworld to atone for their sins, but I bring back the hope to change those sins here on earth. You come here and judge Dust just from what you can see, but I feel the regret deep inside him. Don’t you DARE tell me he’s irredeemable, because if you truly mean that, then you also believe that my soul is beyond hope. That anyone who has ever done something wrong is forever condemned. You see me, and you don’t find the need to reap my soul, yet if you had met me several years ago, you would have sent me to the underworld just as quickly. Yet here you stand, passing no judgement upon me. You see before you a lost, demoralized monster in need of guidance, NOT in need of reaping. Papyrus is correct, there is good in everyone, even if someone like you can’t see it. Now stand the everloving fuck down!” Grim has retreated into his hood, taking several steps back while his head tilts down towards the ground. He retreats back into his corner without a word, seemingly to contemplate your words. You turn to Dust, and press a set of keys into his hand. “Since these Sanses will be judging you endlessly if you stay here, go out to the shed. It should be comfortably furnished, go ahead and make yourself at home.” You shoot one last glare at Grim, and stomp upstairs before anyone can say a word.

 

As you slam your bedroom door behind you, you take a shaky breath. That confrontation was too much for you, you feel like you’re going to collapse, but you need a moment to relax. Unsteadily, you make your way to the window, grabbing a small rectangular box on the way, open it wide and hoist yourself up onto the roof. Half of you expects Sans to be up here, you know this is where he goes to clear his head sometimes, but he’s nowhere to be seen. You wobble over to the chimney, propping your feet against it and pulling out the box you had grabbed, removing a cigarette from its brothers in the pack. You don’t smoke often: one pack is usually enough to last you a month, but right now you need it. Protecting the tip from the cool breeze, you carefully light your zippo with a satisfying  _ snk  _ before holding it to the head of the cigarette and taking a deep drag. Closing the lighter with a  _ snap _ , you relax back, putting the arm you aren’t using to hold the stick behind your head. 

 

When Dust had arrived, the sun was barely peeking over the horizon (you hadn't realized it at the time, but it was three o'clock when you woke up, and making dinner took a couple hours), the hazy tendrils of sunlight just barely trailing through the twilight air, and now all rays of the sun had disappeared behind distant Mount Ebbott. The small sliver of a crescent moon is softly lighting the sky, the waning brilliance shining delicately in the clear heavens, signaling a new moon to grace the skies within the next few days. You take another deep drag from your cig, the red cherry glowing brightly in the dimly lit air, as you feel the warm - yet cutting - embrace of the nicotine fumes in your lungs, before breathing out as wisps of silver grey smoke float lazily around your head before embracing the tranquil breeze and dissipating around you, the heavy, musty smell slowly disappearing as it does. You feel the tension in your muscles relax ever so slightly as you gaze up at the stars, a huge expanse of twinkling dots drawn by the Gods upon the dark velvet fabric of the universe, thinking back across the events of the day. So much has happened in such a short time: you’ve met so many people.

 

The gruff, yet surprisingly sensitive Red, from whom you can sense some of the same hurt and mistrust that you yourself bear, huddled in the corner of the couch, warily eying anyone who comes close. He seems so small even though he’s the same size as your Sans, hiding deep within the recesses of his leather jacket, deep crack in his skull a seeming dark reminder of a bleak past. You wonder about the violence of the universe he came from that he so clearly implied, curious as to who left the crack on his skull and the weight on his soul. 

 

Berry, a complete contrast to the brooding, growling persona that Red shows. Chipper and happy, a seeming perfect match to the Papyrus of your universe, obsessed with cooking and the Royal Guard, the perfect little brother, yet not as innocent as he seemingly appears. You notice the distant look in his eyes sometimes, so much like the moments when you catch Papyrus when no one else is around, a tired look that seems to be exhausted from staying so happy just to keep his brother happy. 

 

The dark enigma that is Grim, lurking deep in the shadows at the edge of the room, weighing the sins of the souls around him as if his life depends on it. The harsh judgement that he passes down, no mercy falling from his lips as he condemns souls to the underworld, not allowing himself any hesitancy in his movements or decisions. He seems to avoid reluctancy at all costs, and you wonder why he doesn’t allow himself a moment’s pause to consider the potential of someone’s heart before passing down punishment. He must have a brother in his universe, perhaps that’s the reason why. Papyrus’ kind heart could never condemn someone without holding out hope for their salvation, so Grim most likely is the contrast to him, two sides of a coin, clemency and mercilessness. 

 

And then there’s Dust: so lost, so broken. You can’t imagine the pain he must go through by killing his loved ones reset after reset. Then again, you recall the small monologue he had inflicted upon you, raving about the joy of inflicting pain and cruelty, enjoying the feel of a dying human beneath his hands. All too clearly you can remember the force of his cruel hands, pinning you to the wall as that smooth, wet tongue draws up your neck whilst you quake in fear, and all of a sudden you feel the flashback that threatened earlier flood over you, panic setting in.

 

~~~~~~~~~~ (TRIGGER SECTION)

 

_ A cruel laugh shatters across your weak body, the man you used to call father looming over you as dirty hands crawl up your skin, rough and demanding from you that which you do not wish to give. Cracked sobs wrack your frame, letting whimpers fall from your lips as he holds you down on the creaking wood table by your shoulders. His gritty tongue slides up your neck, sending shudders of disgust crawling up your skin and down your spine as fear clutches you tightly, wanting to say no but knowing how much worse things will be if you reject him. Putrid hands pinch and tug at your flesh, demandingly creeping up your thighs as tears drip down the sides of your face. _

 

_ “My perfect little princess, aren’t you, yes you are. Don’t cry, you know no matter what you’re daddy’s little girl,” that cruel, abominable voice grates on your ears as his seeking, soiled hands reach the thin barrier of cloth protecting you. _

 

Your body has instinctively curled into a ball, arms gripping around your knees as your fingers worriedly clutch at your hair, pulling and yanking in an attempt to ground you in pain as the memory floods over you, anxiety rippling through your body, breathing coming in short, shallow gasps as you fight to not hyperventilate. The cigarette lays forgotten, next to you on the shingles, now only a trail of ash to the bud of the filter after burning itself out in the cool air. That same cool air does nothing to calm you as tears stream down your face, scratching and clawing at your scalp as you sweat and try to pull yourself away from the panic and fear that races through your veins. Adrenaline pumps hot and heavy through your body, every nerve ending on fire, every muscle taut and straining as you rock back and forth, choking on your sobs as you fight to take even a single breath as every fiber of your being fights you, terror stampeding across you. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~ (TRIGGER SECTION END)

 

Right as you feel you’re about to pass out, a small skeleton appears behind you, phalanges rubbing delicately at your shoulders as Sans,  _ your Sans, _ cradles you to himself, trying to help work out the kinks in your muscles, fighting to calm you down before you hurt yourself. He has what you call a “sixth sense” when it comes to you being in distress, able to sense it. He knows what to do to make you calm down, having helped you through these many times in the past without prying too deeply into the terrors. Gently, he presses his skull to the back of your head, brown hair cascading over his face as you’ve ripped your bun out sometime during your attack. His quiet crooning is muffled by said messy locks, but you can hear him humming Megalovania into your skull faintly as your breathing comes back to you enough for your head to clear slightly. Pain pounds through your cranium as you try to relax, focusing on his faint humming as you work to release your muscles, panic slowly relaxing its grip on your soul as your breathing returns to normal, though the tears don’t stop streaming in wide rivulets down the angles of your cheeks. As Sans feels you relax a modicum, he pulls you closer to himself, adjusting you so that you’re sitting on his lap sideways, nestled in his arms delicately as he presses his forehead to yours, white bone meeting pale skin. Slowly, the tears stop as you relax in his arms, muscles aching and tired from the clenching that they had just been undergoing. You wrap your arms around his body, trembling as perspiration drips down the cream of your face, and he holds you close as your headache slowly fades to a dull, constant throbbing. After a few minutes like this, he pulls back, making certain that the anxiety attack has passed before speaking up.

 

“Look, hun, I’m sorry for how I acted. I just… I know about his universe and I know what he’s done and I just snapped. Thank you for putting me in my place and I,” he pulls in a deep breath, a slight quiver in the air as he whispers softly, “I’m sorry. Papyrus told me what happened, he was watching from the kitchen. You’re so brave and I’m so sorry you had to go through that and that I caused it and-” you put your finger across his mouth to stop him.

 

“I forgive you, let’s just please not talk about that?” you look up at him with a pleading expression, really not wanting to think about the evening’s events anymore than you need to at this moment. He relaxes a bit, nodding in understanding as his regular grin stretches across his face. “What I want to know is what the hell I did. Have you ever seen that happen? Was it magic?” The newfound grin on his face turns to a grimace.

 

“Look, I’m not sure. I’m going to have to look into it. I think it’s magic; but if so, it’s a type I’ve never seen, not to mention humans aren’t supposed to be able to use magic. When the mages sealed us in the Underground, they used all of the magic that mankind had to create the barrier, leaving the Surface barren to any sort of wieldable magic. So if what you did really is magic, I have no idea how you did it. You’re definitely something special,” he blurts out, taking a hold of your hand while his grin changes once again, this time to a shy one. You smile back softly at him. “Until I can find out more, we should just act like it never happened as much as possible, you know that those idiots aren’t gonna leave that one alone for very long.”

 

“Fine, I’ll drop it for now. Can we go to Grillby’s though? I could really use a drink after the day I’ve had,” you query while you give his hand a small squeeze. He cocks a brow bone at you and a small tittering laugh escapes your lips. “I know, I never drink, but it sounds really nice right now, and I’m too tired to go alone.” He nods, and helps you stand up. 

 

“Alright, but it’s my treat. I’ve gotta make up for earlier somehow, hun,” you nod and he pulls you close. You know to hold on tight: he usually doesn’t take other people through shortcuts with him, but you’ve done it a couple times and know what to expect by now. Sans’ eye lights shift slightly, the white becoming momentarily hazy, almost glazed over, as he searches for a ripple in the fabric of space. You can tell the moment he finds one, slipping stealthily into the fold before the empty vacuum of the void greets you. 

 

The blackness caresses you like an old friend - which you suppose you are - and you feel more at home in this empty blackness than you have felt at the house all day. Sans doesn’t know it, but you spend many of your nights here in this darkness, in the company of a man who wishes more than anything to escape this place. You, however, quite enjoy the tranquil emptiness: many times in the past you’ve found yourself just wanting to wander and lose yourself in the infinite black expanse of nothingness, but he had always prevented you, insisting that you are more important to this plane of existence than you believe. The gentle wisps of welcoming haze pull at you, beckoning you to stay and play with them, tempting you to pull away from Sans, but you know you can’t. Gaster and the Void Children will have to wait until you fall asleep tonight to hold you here, when your consciousness is separate from your physical form and no true danger is able to come to you. Closing your eyes to the warmth and familiarity you feel from Them (you can feel the disappointment at your rejection echo through your soul), you rest your head on Sans’ shoulder right as you feel another shift, and when you lift your lids, you’re in the alleyway behind Grillby’s. He pulls back from you, a serious, questioning look clutching to the ridges of his skull.

 

“You kept your eyes closed right? You know the void can drive people to insanity in an instant,” he queries, sockets looking you dead in the eye. You roll your eyes, exasperated by his insistence, and tell the quick white lie that you repeat every time he deigns to “teleport” with you. 

 

“Of course, I know you’re very adamant on that. Kept ‘em closed the whole way,” you say with a smile and he searches your gaze for a moment before nodding. In reality, you had them open the whole way, accustomed to the dragging eternal darkness, but you aren’t going to tell him that. You take his hand and walk out to the street in front of the bar before Sans opens the door for you and you stalk inside.

 

Grillby has really made a name for himself on the surface, opening a chain of restaurants in the mere three years since the Barrier was broken, but he remains here, the original surface store, just as many other monsters have elected to not travel and instead stay close to their prison for fear of the humans. Ebbott City, nestled a few miles from the foot of Mount Ebbott, has become the shining beacon of hope for the integration of monsters into human society in these few cycles of the earth, a slightly tense peace hovering over the city. Of course there’s a few monster hate groups here and there, but nothing like some of the other cities that the more bold monsters have begun to move to. Ebbott holds a tentative armistice between the two races, and like many of the race of monster’s newly opened establishments, Grillby’s holds a warm atmosphere, welcoming both races into a place where violence was not tolerated. Many human businesses still refuse to hire monsters, as some of the population prefers to have locales free of monsters where they can retreat to when they feel overwhelmed (call it their “safe spaces” if you will), as Ebbott is nearly forty percent monster at this point, quite a growth after so little time. 

 

Sans told you a couple years back that the floorplan is identical to that of the Grillby’s in the Underground, just slightly expanded. To the right of the entrance, half a dozen booths line the wall with wide panoramic windows with taupe draperies hung across them, softly glowing lanterns placed between said windows. An old jukebox - you assume the same one that was in the Underground from its battered appearance - sits in the far corner of the same side, in perfect working condition as well as a bin of tokens so that anyone can play music for free (as long as it was in the limited selection) with a large pink neon sign hung on the wall above it, displaying the word “Grillby’s”, as well as an illuminated neon cocktail glass. The rest of the spacious floorplan holds many tables of varying sizes, as well as a few round card tables strewn about. The bar is directly forward from the door, sizeable, housing a dozen stools, a beer faucet holding 10 different ales, and baskets of snack pretzels to keep patrons from drinking on an empty stomach which results in surprisingly few incidents of vomiting. There’s a doorway to the kitchen behind the bar, next to the shelves holding glass bottles of various alcohols, and the bar opens with an employee entrance to the left, where the “FIRE EXIT” sits as well as a small hallway housing a broom closet and the bathrooms. It’s still early in the night and the restaurant is nearly empty, save for a few families eating in the booths: Two female humanoid rabbit monsters with 5 children who are behaving quite well (only leaving the air filled slightly with loud and excited chatter), a human couple and what looks to be their teenage daughter, and another family of anthropomorphic spiders. These are the only current patrons, and nestled comfortably around the room.

 

You both head over to the bar itself where Grillby is running a soft towel around a glass, cleaning up a bit. At six and a half feet tall, Grillby is an intimidating looking monster, but you’ve discovered he’s actually very reserved and kind, the cliche bartender who is easy to talk to about anything - and that’s not just with alcohol in your system, it’s very easy to confide in the bartender even when sober. Orange flames that one would assume would burn all the wood in the place crackle pleasantly around the relaxed monster (inwardly you cackle, you should call him Chillby for how easy going he is), and a pair of square-rimmed black glasses sit comfortably on his face, regardless of the visual lack of ears or nose to support them: all in all, someone who hasn’t seen him before would find themselves conflicted between freezing in terror at the sentient flame and feeling like they’re in the presence of an old friend they hadn’t seen in years. Sans slouches into his usual spot, directly in front of Grillby, and you take the stool adjacent to his left. Sans nods to you, signaling to order whatever you want. You grin evilly at him, and look up at the flame monster, feeling devilish.

 

“Grillbz, I’d like the strongest top shelf whiskey you’ve got, two fingers, neat, and keep ‘em coming,” you order with a wink at Sans who looks at you in disbelief. Grillby nods and looks to Sans, who just sighs.

 

“Whatever she gets, put it on my tab. Fireball on the rocks, with a ketchup chaser if you’d be so kind,” you raise an eyebrow at him as Grillby goes to get them ready. The flame doesn’t speak much, aside from when there’s something important to say, so you decide to start conversation with Sans.

 

“I’ve never drank with you before if I’m correct. You like Fireball? Pretty impressive,” you say with a grin, nudging his shoulder playfully, to which he just rolls his eye lights.

 

“Yeah, it really  _ fires  _ me up. And apparently you’ve got expensive tastes. Top shelf whiskey? You’re gonna be the death of me,” he shoots back, staring you in the eye. 

  
“Only when you’re paying, I guess you could say it gives me the room to have some more  _ flare,”  _ you retort, staring right back, determined to win this contest regardless of the fact that the skeleton didn’t have to blink. After just a few seconds, he lets out a small snicker, to which you attempt to hold back a smile, failing miserably as you both double over giggling like schoolgirls. You love hanging out with Sans like this, no toes to step on, no dealing with new personalities or skeletons. When Grillby sets the drinks down in front of you, you both look at Grillby and bust out laughing even harder. The fire monster just rolls his eyes (as much as a being with no eyes can), and turns to welcome the next guest who just came inside. You take a long swig off of the glass before wiping your lips with the back of your hand, the hot burn of the alcohol sliding down your throat like a lover’s embrace as you relax back and close your eyes. You really needed this. You down the rest of your glass before signaling Grillby, grabbing a pretzel to much on before looking back to Sans, warmth already strong in your belly as you watch him chase his Fireball down with a deep drag from the ketchup bottle. An affectionate smile crosses your lips as you watch his strange habits, and you sigh softly. Grillby sets your glass down on the bar and you grab it, determined to get wasted. Maybe you’ve been the mature one all day, but tonight you want to make some mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying <3 have a great day and feel free to comment and leave me love, they keep me going!
> 
> Tumblr: ashes-before-flame.tumblr.com
> 
> Thank to my lovely Beta, my sister Kaylee who is my co writer on here <3 
> 
> Smooches! ☆u☆


	5. In which we finally meet Gaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Void Children flock to you.
> 
> Gaster greets you with warmth.
> 
> You learn more about what the hell is going on.
> 
> Smooches! ☆u☆

You open your eyes to see blackness all around you, never-ending and deeper than the darkest black you could ever find on Earth. It swells all around you, swallowing you whole, suffocating obsidian blacker than night, stretching as far as the eye can see in every direction, yet you don’t feel trapped or lonely. In fact, you feel at home in this dark expanse, the onyx darkness enveloping you like an old friend. Taking a step forth, you begin to stroll forward, wandering into the deep emptiness of the Void.

 

You know you are asleep, as that’s the only time you can safely visit the Void like this, to wander aimlessly into the darkness without having a destination. If your body were really here right now, you could get lost forever, your soul meandering through this realm for all eternity, but since it’s just your consciousness here, you know you will be drawn back into your body when it’s ready to wake up. As you drift indiscriminately through the emptiness, the disturbance you create - ripples forming in the velvet fabric of the Void - draws the individuals who dwell in this realm to you instinctively, a homing beacon for... the Children.

 

Before long, you feel the laughter and joy of the lonely creatures, seeking only someone to touch them, to bring comfort to their abysmal existence. The echoing giggles resound through your soul as you sense them getting closer, and you close your eyes with open arms as you feel them surround you. Their mirth is uncontained as the wisps of nothingness draw around you, wrapping themselves around your arms, torso, neck and every open surface on your body. Long ago you got used to the chills that raise goosebumps from where they touch you, feeling comfort and warmth rather than the fear and shivers you initially felt from their seeking caresses. Their touches are questioning, searching, silently begging for an explanation as to why you left them earlier in the evening, questing for an answer to why you abandoned them when they were so eager to play with you. In response, you give a sorrowful, apologetic hum, the only way you know to communicate with them. The giggling gets louder, and you can feel their forgiveness through the mirth that resounds through you, and they romp around your body even faster.

 

Gingerly, you open your eyes and see something you’ve never seen before: the dark grey tendrils you are used to seeing have turned into bright strands of color, giving their “bodies” more substance. What you had originally thought of as clouds of mist, now have definition, looking like the neurons you had briefly studied in one of your old biology classes. Every color that you have ever seen wraps in thin filaments around your arms and legs, and you lift your left hand to your face, inspecting this new wonder before you. A small cyan Child pulls its wide end up to your nose, seemingly cocking its nonexistent head in curiosity before pressing itself to your cheek, a small hum emanating while the others pause their frolicking to examine the interaction you’re having. A small, wordless tune echoes through the air as the small being rubs against your skin, and you feel as if it’s introducing itself to you, and with a smile, you rub back against the small tuft of light, humming along with the small aria it’s singing to you, and a chorus of musical laughs meet your ears as suddenly many of the small creatures swarm to your face, wanting the same attention you gave to the small blue one. A sheepish smile graces your face as the first cyan one wraps itself around your head, snuggling next to your ear, seemingly taking charge in organizing its fellow Void Children so that you can give each wisp that greets you your attention and welcome. Before long the threads of red, yellow, and every other color are happily humming along in a small orchestra of music, a sound which you have never heard, and you can’t help but laugh and hum along with the sweet sound that drifts through your soul. The cyan one, though, stays woven through your hair and curled around your ear, seemingly bonding with you as you close your eyes and lose yourself in the song.

 

With a small hum of regret, you lift your arms to your face, the rainbow of colors swiveling to hear you as you whisper the word, “Gaster,” and they titter in agreement. You never come to the Void unless you are called by the good Doctor himself. Having no other connection to the Void, and as much as you would love to relax with and play with the small strands curled around your fingers and arms, you know you must attend to him. As they pull you along, leading you to his sanctuary, you mull over what Gaster had told you the first time you met the Children. 

 

**_“These are what I call the Void Children. They are remnants of timelines lost to the void, after each reset or load. Without the beings in their universe to carry on, they wither and die, lost pieces of time left to fade away. The echoes of each timeline in any universe remain, however, some in the memories of those who carry a piece of that timeline with them, such as Sans and yourself, and some end up here, embodied in these lonely creatures. They do not remember where they came from, or why they exist, but they look just for someone to play with, to make them no longer feel alone. They are filled with an eternal emptiness due to the fact that they are echoes of those who once dwelled within their timelines, now gone forever. They search endlessly for someone to cavort with, to fill even a slight bit of the hollowness within them. Come, let me show you how to handle them.”_ **

 

You always felt bad for the sweet things, just searching for someone to love them, to care for them once more. You had shown them that you aren’t afraid of them, that you want to bring them the companionship they search for, and in response, they connected  to you, able to sense when you enter the Void, knowing that you could help the loneliness they feel, if only just for a moment. You make sure to play with them every time you enter the Void, to give each and every one the attention they deserve and long for. You always wonder which ones hold which memories from your past, which resets they belong to, but you know that they couldn’t answer if they wanted to. Language is foreign to them, and they have no memory of their timelines, so you don’t even try, just enjoying the companionship and love you feel from them. 

 

Before today, you had never heard them make any sound besides the cheerful giggles and laughter they emanate, and it feels like something has shifted in your soul, hearing their songs floating around you as you trek through the blackness, beginning to see the threads that trace through the Void, focalizing on one central point. Their chorus surrounds you and you deftly pet and play with the ones around your fingers, humming along with their cheerful, yet somehow haunting tune as they lead you through the Void to the man who had summoned you. With one long note, they disperse from your body as you approach the convergence of the threads, naturally avoiding the focal point due to the high amount of energy and the man himself who dwells in the heart of the Void. With a smile of fondness, you realize that one of the Children remains with you: the cyan one seems to have decided to stay with you, wound tightly through your hair and whose humming is barely audible in your ear. You reach your hand up to caress the sweet fiber, whose humming grows slightly louder, sounding content, as you approach the looming figure of the Doctor, air thrumming with the energy created by thousands of threads all pulsating and glimmering in a large bundle.

 

“You rang?” You speak with a small giggle, and the tall being turns, permanent smile widening slightly as he rests his eyes upon you, fondness spreading over his features, softening his torn eye sockets and relaxing his stance. Long gone is the melting, depressed figure whom you first met, all pieces of his soul safely intact thanks to yours and the Void Children’s assistance in gathering the shards back together. His slender frame is covered with a long, elegant black trench coat, white turtleneck and black well-fitting slacks. Extending his arms to the sides, he proffers a hug to you.

 

**“Ah, my child, it is very good to see you. Thank you for joining me,”** his hollow voice reaches your ears, causing the Child holding onto you to shrink closer to your head, tightening its grip on you. The Children aren’t exactly afraid of Gaster, but they tend to avoid him when they can. Absently, you run a finger along your small companion and feel it shiver in glee before you step into Gaster’s embrace. His arms fold tightly around you, and you rest your cheek against the soft cashmere sweater that covers his chest.  **“It has been far too long since I last brought you here.”**

 

“Yeah, it has, dad,” you mumble against his wide ribcage, reveling in the contact with the man most dear to you. Your father had never been ‘dad’ to you: that title you reserve for this enigma of a man, who has helped you through every reset. So many nights you’ve been summoned from a nightmare to the warm embrace of this skeleton lost to time itself, a rock in your tumultuous life. You pull back and smile up at him. “I know you’re busy with the timelines, but I miss our times together,” his fond gaze meets yours as he basks in your nickname for him. 

 

**“I know, and I apologize for being absent these previous weeks. There has been a strange convergence, and I have been looking into it, as it has been preventing me from contacting you. I have been observing your day to day activities, however, and it did not seem that you needed my guidance until this evening. My poor child, today has been hard on you. I attempted to dispel your nightmare this previous night, but my efforts appeared to be in vain. I apologize for not summoning you from it; as I previously stated, it seems something has been blocking me from interacting with you.”** Gaster’s proper voice graces your ears tenderly, easily interpreted through the slight distortion that always accompanies it. Your fingers play absentmindedly with your new friend as your attention is directed towards the man who has his arms wrapped around you still. 

 

“It’s okay, I handled it alright I suppose. Sans helped, as usual, though I guess you saw that.” Wrapped in his embrace, you feel his head dip slightly in affirmation as you continue, “You must’ve seen, if you’ve been observing me, that I’ve met more of your sons today. They’re quite… different, I must say.”

 

**“Yes, I have seen your interactions today, and am quite proud of you. A few years ago, you would not have stood up for yourself nearly as well, and especially that eloquently. Your true calling seems to have begun to draw you, and I find myself thoroughly intrigued by it.”**

 

“Yeah, about that,” you frown and step away from his warm arms. “What happened earlier, it’s still puzzling me. I called myself the Keeper of the Heart, I don’t even know what that means or why I said it. Do you know-” he cuts you off.

 

**“I do, but there is not much I am able divulge at this moment without altering the flow of your timeline. I can tell you what I have been telling you since we first met once more. You are more important to your universe than you know, and you must continue to trust your heart. It knows where you must go and what you must choose,”** the mysterious words interest you, and his empty eye socket quirks down at you as you pout.  **“My child, do not look at me that way. As the watcher of the timelines, I know much, but you know that I cannot tell you what I know. I do have some information that I am able to disclose, assumptions that I can confirm. But only if you ask the correct questions.”** Rolling your eyes, you cock your eyebrow at him.

 

“Really, we’re gonna play this game? How about you humor me this once and drop the mysterious air. Just tell me what you are able to tell me, without all the vague statements.” He laughs deep and heartily, and you smile with him.

 

**“You never did like my riddles, my child. I suppose, just this once, that I can lay it all out for you. Next time, you must play along with my ambiguity though.”** You nod eagerly, and he beckons you to follow him. The Child relaxes the further away from the center you get, and is now purring in your ear for attention. You giggle quietly and fondle its wispy head (causing a trilling tune to begin that delights you) as you tread through the darkness after Gaster. You follow one strand out away from the focal point for a while, a few stray Void Children gathering around your ankles and swirling up your legs now that you’re away from the electric air of the heart of the Void, until Gaster stops, and you stand next to him as the Children disperse. Your little cyan friend nuzzles you and you laugh gently, threading your fingers through the small knots that the tuft has woven, letting it swirl around your fingers as it purrs its eerie song. 

 

**“I see that you have made a new friend,”** Gaster says with a low chuckle, turning to you.  **“The Void Children always have been drawn to your energy, but it seems that this one has really taken a liking to you. It appears to have bonded with your magic, an interesting development.”**  Your eyes widen at this new revelation.

 

“Bonded with me? What does that mean?” You ask, eyes lighting up with eagerness at his words. He smiles at you fondly. “Does that mean that it can come with me, dad? If it’s bonded to me?” Your brows furrow in confusion as he looks at you expectantly, and you realize the other part of what he said. “Wait, bonded to my magic? So, I do have magic! That’s what that light was earlier, I knew it! Wait…” you pause for a moment. “I have too many questions, can you just explain this to me?” He laughs at your flurry of words and excitement.

 

**“I should begin somewhere else, but I suppose your eagerness does need to be answered. The rest can wait. Yes, that energy you emitted earlier this evening was magic, my dear. It’s a magic unique to you, just as you are unique in the Multiverse. It is magic of the Heart, and only you have the ability to wield it. It is very important that you remember this: you have no counterparts in any universe. It is the reason I first took an interest in you, though I must admit that my feelings for you have grown more paternal than I was initially expecting. You are an anomaly, something that never should have been, yet the most important thing to exist at the same time. Anomalies are unique, and there aren’t many of them. Some call the Fallen Human, Frisk, an anomaly, but they are not. If anything, they are the most constant thing in the Multiverse.**

 

**“You, however, are the Keeper and the Guardian of the Heart. You cannot yet know what this means, but in time, it will be revealed to you. Even I do not know the full extent of what you will become, as the more I have observed you, the more the future of your timeline has become clouded to me. It is to the point where I cannot see beyond the current time in your universe, as my future is clouded to myself, so while I know bits and pieces that I gathered before becoming more involved, I do not know everything. However, I will tell you what I can that will not interfere with your future.”**

 

You hesitate, your mind reeling as you take in that overload of information.  _ The most important thing to exist? An anomaly? The Guardian of the Heart? _ You think to yourself, trying to make sense of the near gibberish that Gaster just revealed to you, feeling slightly dizzy as you process the information. You ache for clarity, for help completing the puzzle that you feel you don’t have all the pieces to, but you know that any further prying into the situation would lead to Gaster refusing to give you any more information. With a sigh, you rub your forehead, and the Child, sensing your distress, nuzzles you gently, attempting to comfort you as much as it can. You feel your mind unwind a bit, and smile with a small caress to your friend’s head. Gaster notices the movement and smiles at you.

 

**“Let us move on to something else, temporarily, that weighs less on such heavy topics. For instance, your small bonded friend here. Yes it will stay with you. However, it cannot retain this form in a corporeal universe, so instead it will wind itself into your consciousness, a feeling of companionship wherever you go. This is a good thing, because when you need to be alone, it will recede, leaving you with your thoughts, but you will still feel its warmth. It has another function, though. It is bonded to your magic, and as your companion and I are both denizens of the void, it will form a link between the both of us. I will be able to speak to you - and you to I - during your day to day activities, if you concentrate enough on opening the link. Fear not, I will not be whispering in your ear all day, as it takes quite a bit of energy, but if you need me, I will be but one thought away.”**

 

You’re positively bubbling with eagerness, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet. “So you’re saying I can talk to you in my head if I need you? And my little Cyan will be with me?” you look at him with joy written across your features. He laughs.

 

**“A fitting nickname, though the little one is closer to turquoise than cyan, it is truly a perfect name for your little friend.”** The little creature appears to perk up Gaster’s agreement, its song growing cheerier and loud enough to reach his ears. You don’t know why, but you get the feeling Cyan is starting to warm up to Gaster, just as you once warmed up to the Void Children.  **“In any case, let me show you what we came here for.”** Gaster pulls you to observe the strand you had followed. This close to it, you can see that it isn’t in fact, one strand, but rather several all close together, not deviating much. The place where Gaster is beckoning to, however, is a place where the strands all combine into one single woven strand for a while before separating once more into its original pieces.

 

**“You see, this is where you are right now, this is your specific universe. All the strands here in the Void are not actually separate timelines as I once told you, but rather separate universes and timelines across the Multiverse. The timelines that fail, or reset, are what you see as Void Children, broken and drifting. The colors that you now see since your magic has awakened correspond to their different universes, which is why some of them share color. Each time a reset or load occurs, it snaps that strand and creates a new Child, who retains the color of their original universe.**

 

**“But that is not why I am showing you this, my dear. Your universe and the universes of the seven other Sanses currently residing in your universe are closely intertwined, and right now they are all converging, specifically through the link between the universes that is, to put it simply, Sans. This is why they can communicate across their universes, and why they all converged on yours. This is why they were never able to get those machines of theirs to work, and never will. It was within them, that link, the entire time, just waiting for a catalyst, which you have provided. That is what created this convergence, and** **_that_ ** **why I say that you are the most important thing in existence. They will return to their own universes in time, but for now they are caught in yours. Due to the converging of the universes that you see here, they must remain with you for now, as all their universes are suspended for now, frozen in time if you will. They will not return to their own universes until the time that their work is complete, and you must co-exist with them until that time comes. Get to know them, and welcome them into your heart. You are doing a great job so far, but you have a unique opportunity to help each one of them, and you will know what to do, when that moment comes.”** Gaster goes silent and he looks at you, as you absorb all the information he just passed onto you.

 

“Do you have any other information that I need to know right now?” you ask quietly, looking up into those deep, knowing eye sockets, hoping he doesn’t have any more bombs to drop on you. Luckily, he just smiles and shakes his head.

 

**“Regretfully, I do not, and it is almost time for you to wake up. Your antics last night were… unexpected to say the least, though entertaining to watch. You may want to leave the house for a while, just so you know.”** Your eyes go wide.

 

“Dad, what did I do?” You ask nervously, terrified of what you might have done. He laughs softly, shaking his head.

 

**“That, I cannot tell you, you will just have to figure it out for yourself. Now though, it is time for you to wake up my child. Take some of those pain killers and drink a lot of water.”** You frown but nod your head, then ambush him with one final, short embrace before stepping back and grinning up at him.

 

“Alright dad, I trust you. I love you, and I’ll talk to you soon,” you whisper up at him, smiling widely.

 

**“I love you too, my child. Have a wonderful day, and remember: I am just one thought away,”** Gaster says with a fond smile and a small wave, releasing your consciousness from the Void.

 

You wake up with a pounding headache, the sun streaming from the window hurting your eyes as you feel like you want to die, though you manage a small smile as a small presence in your head surges with warmth, Cyan letting you know that you’ll feel better soon, and you send a mental hum at the Child. Tousling your hair, you roll over to avoid the light, body and brain screaming from the effort, and literally come face to face with a body in your bed, from whom a small groan emanates as two eyelights slowly appear. 

  
“Mornin’, dear,” Sans mumbles at you, a sly smirk on his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to kidnap the Children. I love them and want all to use them who want to.
> 
> I hope you guys are enjoying <3 have a great day and feel free to comment and leave me love, they keep me going!
> 
> Tumblr: ashes-before-flame.tumblr.com
> 
> Thank to my lovely Beta, my sister Kaylee who is my co writer on here <3 
> 
> Smooches! ☆u☆


	6. In which you are very flustered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find out why you woke up next to Sans.
> 
> You are irritated about work tonight.
> 
> You consider the outcome of your mistakes.
> 
> You meet a cute new skelly.
> 
> Smooches! ☆u☆

You roll back in surprise, getting tangled in the blankets and falling off the bed in the process. You don’t land too hard, nothing really hurts, but you're fighting with the sheets that have somehow managed to wrap themselves tightly around your arms and legs, trying in vain to detangle yourself as you flail, knotting them worse around you. Your cheeks turn bright red in embarrassment as you catch a glimpse of Sans peeking over the edge of the bed, laughing heartily as you struggle. You feel like a mummy as you decide to stop struggling and bashfully bury your cheeks into the covers wrapped around you, attempting to hide your face as Sans’ laugh only grows louder at your endeavor to conceal your flush. As his laughing dies down, you hear the bed squeak softly as he climbs down and attempts to remove you from the nest that has ensnared you, deftly working the covers around each other and frees you in a matter of moments. As soon as you’re free, you grab a blanket and pull it over your head, not wanting to face the fact that Sans was in your bed when you woke up, not to mention protect your eyes from the light of the room, attempting to ease the pounding in your head from the brightness and movement that makes the pain so much worse. A small groan escapes your lips as Sans playfully tugs at the blanket, making you hold even tighter to it.

 

“C’mon sweetheart, let me see your face, you’re so cute when you’re embarrassed,” he taunts you playfully, which only elicits another moan of pain from you, but you pop your head out of the edge of the sheet to glare at him.

 

“I’m not cute, shaddap. Fuck you Sans, and your immunity to hangovers. Fucking skeleton,” you growl before pulling the sheet over your head once more and curling into a ball. A chuckle, quieter than before, escapes Sans as he pats your leg gently.

 

“Awe, hun, I’m sorry you’re in pain. I’ll grab you some ibuprofen, and then we can talk,” you can feel him stand up and shuffle out of the room as you thank the Gods for the small bit of peace and quiet that you’re receiving. In the silence, the incessant pounding in your head eases up just a bit, and you close your eyes to enjoy the slight reprieve from your hangover. Basking in the remission of pain, you feel Cyan in the back of your mind awaken, curling through your consciousness and gently soothing the parts that are aching (now that your mind has calmed down enough and isn’t frantic in pounding agony), working skillfully to relieve the pain. The soft warmth alleviates a significant portion of the pain, and you find yourself relaxing, finally able to think. Of course, as soon as your brain turns back on it remembers waking up next to Sans,  _ IN YOUR BED _ , before realizing the state your body is in: nearly naked except a lace pushup bra and boxer shorts that don’t even match. In your still slightly pained haze, you’re more upset that Sans saw you in boxer shorts than you are that he saw you in your underwear, period. Speaking of Sans, you realize that he’s back, phalanges gently rolling back the blanket as you look at him, cheeks even brighter red than they were when you woke up with him in your bed.

 

“Here,” he says with his trademark grin plastered on his skull, no humor or anything detectable in his eyelights as he cautiously hands you two small brown pills and a glass of water. Relief flows over you, combating your blush a scant bit, when you realize that he’s wearing his normal turtleneck, hoodie, and shorts, and he was when you woke up as well. Gulping down the pills to ease the last bit of your headache that Cyan couldn’t soothe and draining the glass of water, you look inquisitively at Sans, lips pursed a small bit as you chew the inside of your lip.

 

“So, uh…” you trail off, looking down at your hands - now folded neatly on your lap over the blanket protecting your nearly-nude form - as you sort out what to say. “Did we, uh, y’know-?” Sans cuts you off with a small laugh.

 

“Bone?” you resist the urge to smack him and nod instead, refusing to grace the inappropriate pun with a response, looking up fearfully into his eye sockets as the lights within them spark with mirth. “Nah, I wouldn’t take advantage of ya like that, hun, you know that. Though you seemed pretty eager to do so, some of the pick-up lines you used don’t deserve repeating. I may hafta use ‘em on you sometime, hun, there was some pretty choice shitty puns in there,” he giggles, a strange sound to hear coming from Sans. 

 

“Alright bone boy, I think I’ve heard enough, really, if we didn’t do anything, then I’m fine. Though… Why were you in my bed?” He raises a brow bone at you, a smirk playing across his teeth.

 

“Hang on, I said we didn’t bone. I didn’t say we didn’t do  _ anything _ , hun. You planted a nice wet one on me before I realized what was going on,” he laughs and his eyes gaze off over your shoulder a bit, as if he’s remembering the moment, which just makes you squeak and hide again beneath the blanket, pulling it up over your cheeks so just your eyes are showing over the top as you mumble incoherently into the fabric in chagrin.

 

“S-Sans,” you mumble, embarrassed beyond belief, bright red flushing your cheeks as you feel like you’ve become a tomato. “How can you just… laugh at that? That’s not something I can do so… easily. You don’t… Why…” he shrugs at you with a twinkle in his left eye light, as if he didn’t just tell you that you smooched your best friend. He doesn’t seem to understand (and why would he) that any sort of intimate physical contact is a struggle for you, even though it took you a year and a half to even accept his hugs. “You know I can’t touch people like that, even if I’m kidding. Why are you making light of this?” you groan in frustration, cheeks still nearly glowing a bright red at this point. With a sigh, you roll your head back, exasperated, and grumble. “Well, I mean, at least it was you that I kissed and not some random stranger.”

 

“Sadly, I ain’t the only one who got that privilege,” he grins at you, the twinkle growing brighter at your words. “When we got home you definitely surprised Red with a nice sloppy one too, and I think you nearly broke Blueberry’s ribcage with that crushing hug. Grim wasn’t around when we got back, I think you gave him a lot to consider,” he explains as your eyes go wide in complete mortification. He seems to just gloss over the fact that you kissed someone you just met that day and nearly broke the small skeleton, though, and keeps talking as if the whole event was the most entertaining thing in the world. “I think you scared the pants off of Grillby when you tried to kiss him, I doubt he was expecting that,” he said with a wink.

 

“NO!” you screech, grabbing his hands, panic set deep in your eyes. “Oh god, Sans, please tell me you’re lying and I didn’t try to put the moves on Grillby, I don’t think I could look him in the eye again if I did that,” you beg as Sans looks like he’s about to burst out laughing even harder, before taking mercy on you.

 

“Nah, you didn’t, I just wanted to see your reaction to that. And hoo boy, that was a real good ‘un,” he says before doubling over in laughter. This time, you really do smack him upside the skull as he cackles in delight, just increasing his amusement before he looks at you. “Just a bit of flirting, really, and he’s used to that from both of us. But seriously hun, you actually kissed Red, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it. Blueberry enjoyed his hug until he almost died from it. Kid’s real cute and loves attention of any sort, though he seemed kind of… I dunno really, jealous that you kissed Red and not him?” you feel confused at the observation for a split second before he continues. “As for why you woke up with me in your bed, that’s easy. After I rejected you, ya got all mopey and sad, and asked if I could at least stay with ya. I couldn’t leave you with that pitiful look on your face, so I agreed, and took care of ya. Made sure to chase the nightmares away,” he says with a smile. You sigh, rubbing your temples, giving up the fight to be serious about last night before looking at him with a smile.

 

“Thank you for letting me know what happened, Sans. And thank you for staying with me. I don’t think I can face the guys after this, though, so I think I’m gonna head to the mall for a couple hours to clear my head, since I don’t work until eight,” you muse, before realizing that you  _ did  _ have to work tonight and groaning loudly and pressing your forehead into your palms.” _ FUCK _ I work today, oh that’s just wonderful. I was so focused on everything going on with these multiple universe shit, that I forgot I work tonight. Damn,” you growl slightly. Sans arm sneaks around your shoulder and when you look to him, he’s got a sincere smile for you to see.

 

“Eh, it won’t be that bad. Just your usual shift, right?” he asks and you groan softly.

 

“No, I told Shyren I’d cover her tonight, she’s got something going on, so I’ll be out till like 2am. And you know the late night crowd, especially when I’m there,” you flop backwards, resting against the wall. Sans frowns and takes your hand, looking concerned. 

 

“You sure you can’t just work the usual? I hate that you can’t get a job at a classier place.”

 

“Nah,” you say with a shrug, “I promised her I’d take it, it seemed important to her. And you know I need more experience to make it to a nicer club, they don’t hire without at least a year of background. I’m almost there, but I’ve still got a couple more months to go.” Sans sighs, nodding.

 

“I know, can’t help but be worried about you. I know it’s your dream, and you’re not giving up on it, but seriously, as soon as you can find a better job you better take it.” You smile at his consideration, and nod.

 

“You know I will. Mind taking me to the mall? I’d really rather not face the guys right now,” you request with a blush. He nods again, then gestures to you. 

 

“Might wanna get changed, hun, I think those clothes might be a bit too much for anywhere other than Victoria's Secret,” he teases with a wink, and you attack him with the blanket (blushing even more furiously than before, since you forgot you aren't wearing anything but underclothes), rolling him up in the material and pushing him towards the door to the room.

 

“Fine, but I need privacy!” he laughs as you rotate him out the door, still mummified in the purple afghan. Shutting the door behind you to his muffled chuckles, you re-adjust your underclothes before sliding on a military green tank top brandishing the words “Make Memories, Not Excuses” on the front and black flare leg jeans. Tugging on green combat boots, you quickly brush your hair and put it into a ponytail before grabbing your purse and stomping out the door, to find the Sans bundle still shaking with laughter. Grabbing the edge, you yank the blanket upwards, unfurling the skeleton and flinging him at the banister. He rolls to a stop on his back and lights just one eye light up at you, looking mischievous. 

 

“Lazy day, huh,” he comments, eyeing your quickly thrown on clothes. 

 

“Says the sack of bones who wears the same hoodie everyday,” you shoot back at him, and he holds his hands up in defeat. 

 

“Fine, fine, whatever, it’s just the mall anyway,” he grumbles before popping up to his feet and sliding his arm around your waist. Rolling your eyes, you set your arm over his shoulders and he quickly steps into a shortcut, the moment in the void passing fast as this is one that he’s taken hundreds of times, and the way is speedy. He pops you into the women’s restroom and you step away, noticing that you’re in an empty handicapped stall, and you quirk your eyebrow at him.

 

“Really Sans? You’ve memorized a shortcut to the girl’s bathroom?” He doesn’t reply to your question, instead just winking at you and patting your shoulder. 

 

“Text me when you’re ready to prepare for work and I’ll come and pick you up,” he taunts before giving you an ironic salute and disappearing again. Giving a small shake of your head, you leave the restroom and begin to wander, stopping into a few clothes shops and miscellaneous gimmick shops, just browsing and relaxing, not buying anything or spending too much time in one place. As you wander, not paying attention to the merchandise, you muse over the events of last night. You’re not completely surprised that you kissed your Sans; after all, he’s been a huge help for your healing (even if he doesn’t know completely what you’re healing from) over the last few years, and you can confidently call him your best friend at this point. Whenever you think of him, that blue blush that you so rarely see jumps into your mind, making your heart leap slightly. You know what  that can mean, though you haven’t really thought about those feelings in a long time. Your father had stamped out any dreams of love in your life years ago, and you couldn’t bring yourself to even acknowledge the fact that you may have the slightest amount of non-platonic feeling for him.

 

The dissonant tunes of the Temmies catches your ear as you wander between floors, leaving you wondering where the little silly kiosk would be today. The sound floats about as you stroll across the cool tile floors, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. The Temmies are a complete enigma that no one seems to be able to figure out: their kiosk randomly appears and disappears around the mall, the only cue as to when you can find them being their bizarre music that seems to emanate from the Tems themselves, even when there’s nothing around that could be playing the music. Perking up at the thought of an interaction with one of the little furry busybodies (they always seem to cheer you up) and possibly buy one of their little trinkets that work great for pranks on Sans, you attempt to follow the cacophonous music to the Tem Shop, ending up walking in circles. It seems like today will not be the day you get to greet the exuberant little freaks, so instead you venture towards the food court, your mind wandering without the goal of the Tem Shop to ground you.

 

What could have possibly possessed you to kiss Red? Sure, the guy’s kinda sexy and mysterious, but you don’t even  _ know _ him. With a start, you realize he’s never talked about himself once in the last day. The closest is when he briefly mentioned his own universe, but he didn’t talk about himself or his brother or anything. You had a bonding moment with Berry, which explains why you were comfortable enough to hug him, especially since he feels so familiar (what with looking like Sans and acting like Papyrus, he’s like a combination of the two brothers with whom you’ve gotten so familiar with the last few months), but there’s no real explanation for Red. He doesn’t look enough like Sans to make you comfortable with him, and he’s rude and irritable. There’s no feasible reason you would have for kissing him. Silently, you thank the Gods that Grim wasn’t around when you got home, you aren’t sure what you would do if you had made some sort of move on him. You two haven’t talked since your little conflict and - even though you would never admit it out loud - you’re a bit scared of him. 

 

Oh that’s right, you had a bit of conflict yesterday  _ other _ than your drunken antics. You can still feel the fear pump through your veins as you remember protecting Dust. You flinch as you realize you had practically marooned him to the shed last night, and left him there. Not to mention, you hadn’t left on very good terms with any of the Sanses other than yours. You had stopped Grim from doing what he perceives to be the right thing to do, had shielded Dust, and told off Red. That was the last  **sober** interaction you had with any of them.  _ At least Berry and Red should be getting along, _ you think to yourself, looking in the window of some hippie shop that’s run by humans.  _ Red seemed really protective of him when Dust came inside _ . Groaning for what feels like the millionth time today, you grind your knuckles against your forehead, trying to relieve the inner conflict.  _ Then again, what happened last night might be the best thing I could’ve done, _ you reason with yourself, a small smile curling on your lips,  _ Red and Berry probably thought I was angry at them for judging Dust. After kissing Red and crushing Berry, though, they most likely (hopefully) know that I don’t hold it against them _ . Your smile widens as you approach Wetzel’s Pretzels, satisfied with the conclusion that your contemplations have reached.

 

You buy a cinnamon sugar pretzel to munch on as you amble about for a few more minutes before stopping into your favorite store. A soft glowing green sign reads “Haunt’s Harmonies,” making a small smile creep onto your face as you wander into the music shop, cool green and blue lighting welcoming you like an old friend. Not seeing anyone behind the counter, you browse the collection of vinyl records, looking to expand your collection. Selecting  _ The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, _ David Bowie’s fifth album, you slide it out of its record sleeve and onto the display turntable, sliding on the headphones hanging off of it before starting the music.

 

You start to groove to the beat, moving your hips with the music and getting lost in the rhythmic, husky thrum of Bowie’s voice, jamming out to Moonage Daydream when you feel a light touch on your shoulder. Turning, you grin widely when you see Napstablook timidly trying to get your attention. Pulling the headphones off and stopping the turntable, you hold up a finger to ask him for a moment before returning the LP to its sleeve and sliding it back in with the rest of the albums. Now able to focus your full attention on him, you “hug” Napstablook gently, placing your arms around where he would be if he had a corporeal form. A blush, or as much of a blush as he can generate, floats across the white of his ghostly cheeks and his timid smile curves upward.

 

“Hey… Didn’t want to bother you, sorry…” he mumbles out, and your smile brightens as he starts drifting towards the counter with you in tow. 

 

“Don’t worry Blooky,” you say with a giggle, using the nickname that Mettaton uses for him that you adopted as your own name for him since you made friends from coming into the store so much. “I came to see you, you just weren’t out here so I was hanging out!” Following him behind the counter, you notice the door to the employee break room slightly ajar; weird, since it’s always closed when he’s in the shop. 

 

“Y-yeah...” he stammers, looking down as he sighs. “I made a new friend, we’ve been in the back room feeling like garbage together… I heard you come in so I came out here… It took me awhile to get up the courage to say hi… You know me...” you smile at this revelation. 

 

“Oh, Blooky, you made a friend? That’s awesome, can I meet him?” you ask, assuming that’s why the break room door is open. He looks at you, seeming almost curious behind his sad gaze. You never try prying into his life - he’s reluctant to talk about himself for fear of boring people anyways - so this inquiry is kind of out of the blue for you. When he hesitates, you bite your lip and get ready to rescind the request, not wanting to make him feel bad, when he responds.

 

“I guess, though it might be kind of weird… I don’t want to trouble you, since he looks a lot like one of the brothers you live with…” he murmurs, avoiding eye contact. “I’m not sure if it’d be a good idea…” Your eyes go wide.

 

“You met one of the Sanses?” You ask, not sure whether to feel excited or apprehensive over the prospect of another Sans, since the other ones are so… Well, unique is probably the best way to put it. Blooky looks stunned. 

 

“Oh, you know about him? I guess it’s okay then…” he looks to the side, floating in place. “Come to the break room then… If you guys leave together, I hope he comes back sometime...” he trails off, sounding sadder than usual.

 

“Oh, you silly ghost, of course he’ll come back, you’re a great friend. Don’t worry, I won’t steal him away from you, I promise,” you say with a giggle. He still keeps looking away, tears seeming to form in the circles that form his eyes, and you sigh slightly. “Cheer up bud, I swear he’s gonna want to come back and see you again.” With still no response, you pat where his side should be, and encourage him. “Hey, why don’t you show me Dapper Blook, I know that cheers you up.” His eyes brighten at this and he nods, letting the tears flow. The white blobs float up to the top of his form, coagulating into a white top hat, and you offer him a wider smile. “There ya go, you look great!” you encourage him. His smile comes back and he beckons you to follow him, letting the hat dissipate as he glides away from you.

 

You follow him to the door that is slightly ajar, and walk in. The green shag carpet in the middle of the room where you lay with him a lot holds a small skeleton, cuddled deeply in an extremely oversized light grey sweatshirt with elbow patches, the ends of the sleeves adorned with a small border of black. Midnight blue headphones with black music notes on them are fitted tightly against his skull, thick pads cushioned softly against the bone. He has a fluffy scarf wrapped multiple times around his neck and over his mouth, up to the bottom of his nasal cavity, the material patterned after sheet music, and he’s wearing black basketball shorts: the right side of them is completely black while the left has a streak of white down it, patterned after piano keys.He only has one eyelight, and it’s in the shape of a music note. Blooky hovers over to the small skeleton, pulling at his sleeve to get his attention. The skeleton pulls his headphones off, still staring up at the ceiling, and Napstablook mumbles something to him. Sitting up, he turns to face you, though he’s staring over your head in the process. With a slight bit of shock, you realize that he’s blind. You smile at him out of habit, regardless of whether or not he can see you, and greet him.

 

“Heya, it’s nice to meet someone who obviously has as much love for music as Blooky and I. My name is Y/N,” you warmly introduce yourself. “Any friend of his is a friend of mine.” He cocks his head to the side slightly and pulls down his scarf, revealing his toothy smile. 

 

“Oh, are you the Y/N that Sansy talks about all the time?” His voice is soft and lilting, sounding almost like a he’s right in your ear, whispering softly words meant only for you. A blush covers your cheeks as you register what he said: you knew that he’s mentioned you, but you didn’t realize that Sans  _ always  _ talks about you, and make a small sound in affirmation. “It’s great to finally meet you, I can guess that you already know why I’m here. I kinda got lost trying to find the address that Sans sent me, there may be more magic in this universe than mine, but it’s foreign to me so it’s hard to navigate.” Before you can ask what he means by this, he touches your arm with his phalanges, and smiles shyly. 

  
“You can call me Note.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying <3 have a great day and feel free to comment and leave me love, they keep me going!
> 
> Tumblr: ashes-before-flame.tumblr.com
> 
> Thank to my lovely Beta, my sister Kaylee who is my co writer on here <3 
> 
> Smooches! ☆u☆


	7. in which note gets excited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little fluffy convo n stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS I'M BAAAAAACK  
> This is just a shorty chappy to bring us all back in universe! I'm so sorry it's been a long hiatus but we are back in! No real update schedule right now as I'm trying to figure out stuff with life and money earnings and whatnot, but it won't be another 8 months :) PLEASE ENJOY and I love you alllllllllllll  
> (It might be a good idea to go back and re read the last chapter, or just re read the whole thing to get back up to speed since it's been so long.

The small skeleton looks directly at you as he introduces himself, startling you. You’re puzzled for a moment before you realize that he can feel the magic thrumming in your skull, Cyan having begun to hum a split second before he looked at you. You realize that this cute little blind skeleton must use something to see  other than the cane that humans use for blindness, which actually makes a lot of sense. It seems that not all universes are as kind and tame as yours (such as Red’s universe, apparently), and someone with that blaring of a weakness would most likely have been taken out quickly - no matter the other powers that Note might have as Sans. Even in a peaceful universe, being blind would be a ridiculously difficult task. You figure he must sense magic, somehow, as his way of getting around without sight. That starts you wondering about his personal powers and wondering if the shortcuts would work for him. You must have been lost in thought for a little while, since when you start to be aware of the room around you again, you realize that Note and Blooky have re-started the conversation that they had been having before Blooky came to get you.

Note must be a lot more sensitive than you had been pondering, for as soon as you start to become aware again, he looks in your general direction and says, “Welcome back to the land of the living, y/n.”

At that moment, the sad tone that lets Blooky know that someone has entered the shop sounds, startling you, as you have never gotten used to how… depressing it sounds. “Well… Don’t let me stop you two from having fun...” moans Blooky. “I know I can be such a downer… Nice to meet you Note… It’d be nice if you could come around again… I don’t want to be a bother… But if you want to...” He floats out the door of the back room to the customers awaiting his… unique assistance.

“Know anywhere that I might be interested in around this area?” Asks Note. Thinking about his chosen name, you grin, thinking of the discordant music you had been trying to follow when you stopped in here. 

“Think you might be able to help me track down a store that moves?” You ask, a mischievous grin playing across your lips.

“I don’t think I can be much help with that,” Note half-mumbles with a blush. “I really don’t know my way around. And I’m kind of, y’know,” he gestures to his eye sockets with embarrassment. 

“Well,” you start with a small snicker, “There is that fact that the only way to find the store is to follow the music, and that that it’s run by monsters, so you could ‘ _ see _ ’ their magic,” Your grin stretches wider as he perks up noticeably at your reasoning. 

“That doesn’t sound too hard,” he giggles slightly and it’s so melodic you can’t help but laugh with him. “And if there’s music I’m definitely in!” He all but squeals, and you can’t help but get excited with him. The silly little skelly sounds eager and more, well, alive than you have seen him as of yet. You offer a hand to him and he vibrates slightly as he reaches for it, slightly bumping his knuckles against yours on accident as he misses the first try in elation. You feel younger than you have in a long time as he tugs you out of the room to search for the Temmies.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELCOME BACK and I hope you guys are enjoying <3 have a great day and feel free to comment and leave me love, your comments keep me motivated more than anything else!
> 
> Tumblr: ashes-before-flame.tumblr.com (please draw me fanart OwO)
> 
> Thank to my lovely Beta, my sister Kaylee who is my co writer on here <3
> 
> Smooches! ☆u☆

**Author's Note:**

> I just realized that I haven't put this anywhere or let anyone know, but I do have a Tumblr!  
> Ashes-before-flame.tumblr.com I don't really post story related stuff but if you like cute things and skeleton porn/other skeleton stuff please Feel free to check it out! Also, ^///^ if you would send fan art I would be so happy... As any writer it's kind of my dream to get fanart hahaha. Seriously tho I love you guys.  
> ☆u☆


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